


think about all the places we could go

by bellamysblakes (puddingandpie)



Series: finding my way back home [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, M/M, and why not post it, so i wrote this at the asscrack of dawn, what am I doing with my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3530120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddingandpie/pseuds/bellamysblakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili woke, panting, to have his mother fuss over him and his brother sit and sharpen his swords on the chair adjacent to his bed.<br/>“Are we dead?” were the first words out of his mouth, prompting his brother to laugh and his mother to look at him strangely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

Kili woke, panting, to have his mother fuss over him and his brother sit and sharpen his swords on the chair adjacent to his bed.

“Are we dead?” were the first words out of his mouth, prompting his brother to laugh and his mother to look at him strangely.

“Are you trying to be funny? You are about to leave on a quest, not go to the Halls. Don’t be stupid.” And for that, Dis smacked him right on his head.

“Ow,” he whined, rubbing his head gently.

“Now come on, you have a few more arrows to make before you leave.” She left the room, and Kili was left wondering what was going on.

“Fee, are you sure we aren’t dead?” He said curiously to his brother.

“What in Mahal’s name makes you say that?” His brother replied, plagued by what Kili was asking him but not wanting to show it.

“Nothing,” Kili dismissed. “Just a dream I had, that’s all.”

Pictures began to flash over his eyes, things that looked like memories. Of a hobbit burglar, of a beautiful elf in the Mirkwood Forest, of a sharp pain in his leg, of the elf again, this time letting off a bright white light as she brought him back from the dead.

Of his uncle falling to the gold sickness, the one that he knew had plagued his father and his grandfather. Of his brother falling limply in front of him, blood staining the front of his armour and of his tunic.

Are these the events that are about to come to pass? Did he just have a vision of the future?

He shook his head wildly before crawling to the side of the bed. He wasn’t having visions of anything. That was just his brain coming up with what it thought was about to happen.

He reached over, flailing wildly for any hint of his quiver, but with no luck. He flopped down on the bed, and would have gone to sleep again if it wasn’t for his mother dumping his quiver and knife on his face, the arrow’s going everywhere.

“Maaaaaa,” he groaned. “I worked ages on them.”

“Well, you should have been up long ago to work on them, just like your brother did with his swords. Now get to work, you need to be off and running by the time the sun is in the middle of the sky.” For the second time that day Dis left him and his brother alone in a room that would cease to be their bedroom from the moment they stepped out the front door and waved goodbye to their mother. This was it.

But the memories were still there, the ones he didn’t even remember making. The ones where the company became his family, where a large dwarf named Bombur caught the egg in his mouth at the Burglar’s house and the time where another dwarf named Bofur whittled each member a bead because there wasn’t any access to a mine or a forge or anything.

The Burglar. Now what was his name? Kili pondered over it for a second, turning over possibilities in his head. Bluebell? Bella?

But that thought didn’t last long, as he shook it out quickly. _This was just a dream, why do you care so much about your imaginary burglar’s name?_ He looked down at the fletching in his hand, and began to cut and shape them, making them ready to be combined with his arrows before his mother had his braids for his laziness.

***

He had long finished when Thorin entered the house, wanting to see what his favourite nephews were up to.

“We’re your only nephews uncle,” Fili called back, which made Kili smile. This friendly banter, this was normal, and it helped to calm his nerves a bit. After finishing the arrows this morning, that was when it really started to sink in that this wasn’t a normal day. He was about to leave home for just over a year, to not get those creature comforts that he was so used to. Things like his mother’s cooking and an actual bed. He’d miss these things most.

The dream from last night was still playing over and over in his head, and he wondered if maybe he should tell Thorin about it, talk to him, even if it was nothing at all, and it was just a story his brain made up.

But why trouble his uncle with something as unimportant as the dream he had the night before. It was just that, only a dream.

“Now, I am just here to give you both some warning. We are meeting the Company in the courtyard at…” Thorin droned on for a while and Kili immediately tuned out, knowing his brother would do the listening for him. Surprisingly, his mother noticed that he was daydreaming out the window, but decided not to mention it, instead tears glossing over her eyes.

“Will we get to know the names of the members of our company, Uncle?” Fili inquired.

“I feel that they should be able to introduce themselves when you get there. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go and find a man who wants to sell me some ponies.”

“Wait Uncle,” Kili exclaimed on impulse.

“What is it Kili?”

“Is there a dwarf named Bofur in our company?” Kili asked timidly.

“Why yes, actually. How did you know that?” Thorin questioned, a look of confusion adorning his features.

“His whittlings skills precede him.” Kili said definitively, after much consideration.

“Very well.” Thorin felt there was something off there, something Kili wasn’t telling him. Yes, Bofur was a whittler, but he was a miner by trade, and whittled for friends or family. There was another way that Kili knew Bofur, there had to be.

It better not be courting, or god help that poor dwarf.

***

When the sun reached the middle of the sky, in synchronisation all of the dwarves of the company began to arrive in the middle of the courtyard, where Thorin had arranged for them to meet.

Bofur, strangely enough, was first, followed by his brother Bombur and his cousin Bifur. Then was the Brother’s Ri, Dori, Nori and Ori, who were then followed by Oin, Gloin, Balin and Dwalin. Fili and Kili were the last to arrive, which Thorin found quite typical of the line of Durin.

There were the pleasant introductions all around, except for Kili, who did something quite unexpected and definitely out of line for his personality. He stood at the back. Both Fili and Thorin were quite taken aback by this, as it was more like him to come barging to the front and to demand attention. But, instead he stood quietly, spoken only when spoken to, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

Something was definitely going on here.

Kili, on the other hand, now knew that that dream was no dream. Each and every dwarf that had once accompanied him on his travels was now here, right in front of him, all of the company bar the burglar.

That was why, this morning, he couldn’t get the thought of not knowing the name out of his head. This burglar, Kili was going to meet him in the next month, where they all arrive periodically. The food fight, his hesitance to join the company’s pursuit in fear of leaving what he knows, and to a lesser extent, the dragon itself.

He was no burglar in the beginning, but he was at the end, and maybe that’s what counted here. His heart was in the right place. _Thorin,_ his brain supplied, and that was probably right. He could easily recall the glances that they shared, the ones that lingered a bit longer than they should have, where Thorin and Bilbo…

Bilbo! That was the burglar’s name. Bilbo Boggins. Probably. It was close enough at least.

He focused back on the scene in front of him, where Thorin was giving an inspiring speech to the group to motivate them, or something along the same line. This wasn’t something Kili needed to pay attention to particularly, instead choosing to focus on the dwarves he didn’t know he had been missing his entire life.

 _This was it,_ he thought, _It’s time to change the future._

***

Strangely enough, he hated every second of it now.

When he left, his mother had cried for the loss of her remaining family, and there was many emotional goodbyes from the rest of the Companies own families. After that there was the hype of setting off, the one where they were all buzzing on this invisible energy that had infected them all.

Then after that, four days in to be precise, no one would speak to each other outside of their own family groups. This wasn’t anything like what had happened in his dream. He remembered things like singing around a fire and throwing plates in the dining room. These memories they acted like comrades, but here they were strangers.

Weirdly enough, he was almost praying for some sort of attack, one where something goes horribly wrong but they all band together to fix it and in the end they all have an increased sense of camaraderie and companionship with each other. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon, so Kili set about doing it the other way. Food.

He still remembered all of their favourites sweets, the pastries and the scones, the cakes and the brownies. He just hoped that someone else on the other side of the Shire would remember too. And maybe cook them up a feast.

***

On the other side of the Shire, Bilbo Baggins had also awoke with a start. His head was swimming with memories of the life that he had led, the one where he had grown old and sailed to the Undying Lands.

But here he was, not even fifty, sleeping in Bag End, with a full pantry, no more aching bones and excitement filling his stomach. Something told him that today was the day.

Today was the day that 13 dwarves and a wizard came knocking on his freshly painted green door and asked him to become a burglar, to steal a mountain, to steal a home, back from a dragon that had not been seen in over sixty years, well before Bilbo himself was born. And today was the day that he first laid eyes on Thorin Oakenshield, the only love of his life.

Bilbo remembers this day more than ever, because he got insulted over nothing. What he was to learn was that this was the way that dwarves show affection, through petty insults and curses. What they would come to learn was that this would confuse hobbits beyond measure, and some discussion about cultural differences would definitely take place.

But he was startled out of his thoughts by the realisation that he had nothing to feed them, because god knows how last time went. With the raiding of the pantry leading to an uncooked meal, he would not let them go hungry a second time. This time, he would cook them a decent meal, filled with all of their favourites.

He had not forgotten them, even over all of these long years. He could not, for they were one of the only things left that tied him to his dwarves.

So he got to work, whipping up raspberry tarts and lemon curds for Dwalin, and a peach cobbler for Balin. A bread and butter pudding for Oin, blueberry scones for Gloin. Strawberry ice-cream for Bofur and caramelised banana pudding for Bifur. For Bombur, he made a fresh apple cake, and Ori got himself a triple chocolate cake. For Dori, blackberry and apple upside down cake, and for Nori, lemon bars. Fili and Kili got themselves a batch of chocolate brownies and some chocolate ice-cream and whipped cream to complete it.

And Thorin, well he got old Great-Great-Grandma Baggins’ special plum tart, which was only made in special occasions. And god knows he was worth it.

There was also the preparation of a main course, but Bilbo didn’t worry about that one now. Those pesky dwarves could handle themselves.

By the time he was pulling the last batch of brownies out of the oven, he heard a knock on the door, three times over. Dwalin was here.

“Master Dwalin I presume? I’m Master Baggins, at your service. If you could please go into the pantry and start getting food out for dinner that would be lovely thankyou. Just this way,” Bilbo was awful flustered at seeing his old friend just standing there, and attempted to disguise it by acting busy. He hoped it worked, but he couldn’t seem to read Dwalin as well as he could a hundred years ago.

But it all worked out okay, because in the next moment, he saw Dwalin sniffing the air. “There wouldn’t happen to be raspberry tarts or lemon curds for dessert Master Baggins?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yes there is Master Dwalin, and they’re all for you, but only if you help get some food out for dinner. God knows how hard it is to cook for 13 dwarves and a wizard without any help.”

Dwalin’s smile looked like it could light up the entire Middle Earth, and for a second, Bilbo thought he could see some of the Dwalin he remembered, hidden away in it. But he knew that wouldn’t be possible, or else he would have come right out with it. That was just how Dwalin was.

Balin was next, and everything proceeded in an orderly fashion with him, bar the friendly head butt between him and his brother.

But Fili and Kili were different. “Fili,” said the first.

“And Kili,” said the second.

“At your service,” they both bowed in synchronisation.

Fili strode in, his familiar mix of swagger and poise comforting to Bilbo. But Kili, on the other hand, was calm and collected, not like he was at the beginning of the journey. He almost went to wipe the bottom of his feet on his mother’s glory box, but something stopped him. Bilbo knew instantly what it was.

He walked over and tugged on Kili’s arm, dragging him over to the study and shutting the door behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Kili began, but Bilbo cut him off. There was no time for silly things like discretion.

“Do you know what happened last time someone tried to do this ‘quest’ to Erebor?” Bilbo questioned.

“Do you mean my grandfather or…” Kili trailed off, realising his mistake the moment he finished his sentence.

“The fact you said or means you remember what I remember. Good, that’s all I need to know. If you’ll excuse me, I have some more dwarves to welcome in.”

A weight Kili didn’t even know he was carrying suddenly lifted from his chest, making him feel lighter than he had since he woke up the morning he had left for this quest. Bilbo remembered! There was going to be someone who understood his worry, who understood what he was going through, someone who was going through the same thing.

He wasn’t alone.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> far over the misty mountains cold

two

The entire contents of the massive pantry, bar the desserts that were sitting out on the kitchen bench, was spread out on the dining table, all of it being consumed by a bunch of messy, hungry dwarves. They were going to clean up soon, a sight Bilbo was more than looking forward to.

They would sing, they would dance and they would act more like the dwarves Bilbo remembered than the ones that they were now.

It now made sense that Kili was the one to initiate the singing, considering that he was the only one that remembered what had happened before.

It must have been an old bar song though, because they all seemed to know the words and the tune, changing only the name to his own. This was familiar, this was normal and this reassured him that he could make them open up and turn them into the family he had once.

One day, he reasoned. One day.

Kili, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. This was familiar also to him, but there were gaps here, the discussion in between the singing especially. Suddenly, there was a few sharp knocks on the door, and Kili knew instantly that Thorin had arrived.

The green door swung open, and there, in all his glory, was the dwarf Bilbo had fallen in love with all of those years ago. He wanted to stand there, to gape at him alive and well, but he refrained, as that would be silly. He was a gentlehobbit, not a pining little boy. Scratch that, he was a pining gentlehobbit.

“Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice and I would not have found it at all if it wasn’t for that mark on that door.”

“Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?”

 _“_ Pardon me?”

“Axe or sword, what's your weapon of choice?”

“I’m a burglar Master Oakenshield, not a warrior. Knives are the best for me, knives and my sword, one I that was taken from me by some pesky trolls. I might find it on the journey, or so I hope,” he snapped, taking Thorin by surprise.

However, Thorin gathered himself after only a few moments, humming contentedly as he pushed his way into the dining room.

“Yes Gandalf, I do believe that this hobbit might make an adequate burglar, even though he looks like a grocer.” The company burst into peals of laughter, making Bilbo push down a smile. He was used to being called a grocer by now, considering that was the most common insult on the road.

“If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too. Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people stands unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours. Or do we seize this chance this chance to take back Erebor?” The dwarfs cheered, but Balin looked unconvinced.

“You forget, the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain,” he sighed.

‘That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.” Gandalf pulled from what seemed like nowhere, a key, one Thorin, Bilbo and Kili all instantly recognised.

“How did you come by this?” Thorin whispered hoarsely.

“It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now.” Gandalf handed the key over to Thorin, all of the dwarves silent for once.

“If there is a key,” Fili elaborated, “There must be a door.”

“These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls,” Gandalf remarked, pointing to the map on the table.

“There’s another way in.” Kili said quietly, definitively even, muttering something underneath his breath afterwards. Bilbo knew that he was muttering something about the previous quest, about everything that had gone wrong when they searched for that god damn door, but that was an issue that they could talk about when they got there.

“If we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I don’t have the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done.”

“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori exclaimed, looking more excited for this than he should be.

“Yes, an expert I suppose,” Bilbo wondered aloud, hoping that he would be up for this task a second time around.

“And are you laddie?” Balin inquired.

“Yes, I do suppose so. I have done an awful lot of thievery in my life, but only for a good cause,” Bilbo retorted calmly. He’d have to find that stupid ring though, if he stood any chance against Smaug.

“Give him the contract,” Thorin grumbled.

Balin reached into his pocket and pulled out a long sheet of paper that was almost as tall as him.

“It's just the usual; summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth.” Bilbo glanced over the contract Balin had given him, and he knew it was the same one that he had been given the first time.

Thorin bent over to Gandalf, feelings he had not felt in a long time swirling up inside him. This person, this hobbit, someone he had met only today was making him feel like this, like they had known each other for thousands of years. For some reason, he felt the need to confirm to Gandalf that he could not guarantee anything when it came to the hobbit, although a voice in the deepest part of his heart told him that he would do anything to protect this company’s burglar.

“I cannot guarantee his safety.”

“Understood.”

“Nor will I be responsible for his fate.”

“Agreed.”

 _Yes Thorin,_ a voice from deep down inside of him said, _You will be responsible for his fate._

 _“_ Terms, cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth total profit if any. Seems fair. Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence there of including but not limited to laceration, evisceration... incineration?” Bilbo read aloud, wondering if they knew what was to come.

“Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye. Think furnace with wings. Flash of light, searing pain, then poof, you’re nothing but a pile of ash,” Bofur said creepily, intending to scare Bilbo. He just laughed.

“Yes Master Bofur, I have seen a dragon before,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, which took most of the company by surprise.

“You’ve seen a dragon Master Baggins?” Ori asked curiously.

“Yes, Master Ori. Stolen from one too. Quite easy, I must admit. Us hobbits can pass unseen by many if we so desire, and so it makes us the perfect thieves to steal from a dragon. Plus, your dragon will know what the smell of dwarf, elf and man would be, but it won’t be expecting a hobbit.”

This took both Gandalf and all of the dwarves by surprise, most of their mouths falling open in awe and surprise at what he was claiming. Luckily for him, however, Gandalf was the first one to gather his wits together, deciding to back up his story.

“Yes, Master Baggins has faced many a dragon in his time,” he claimed, which made Bilbo puff out his chest slightly, proud of his kind of non-existent accomplishments, but only in this universe. He had done this, and he could do it again. He’d need to find that ring though, or else he probably didn’t stand a chance.

“It appears we have found our burglar then.” Balin said proudly, when him and Thorin had a moment alone. “Probably for the best, as the odds are now closer to our favour. But you don’t have to do this. You have a choice. You have done honourably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor. After all, what are we. Merchants, miners, tinkers and toymakers. Hardly the stuff of legend.”

“There are a few warriors amongst us.”

“Old warriors.”

“I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty, honour, a willing heart. I cannot ask more than that. I never had a choice here, Balin. From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There no choice Balin. Not for me.”

“Then we are with you laddie. We will see it done.”

***

Bilbo was sitting now on the empty dining table, wondering if he was making the right decision to change the future. Yes, he was going to save Thorin Oakenshield, Fili and Kili, but in doing that he is forsaking his own nephew, one that hasn’t even been born yet.

If he does this, he will make sure that Frodo never goes on his quest, makes sure that there is no reason for him to ever be in any sort of danger. He wants to make sure that Primula and Drogo never go swimming, never have any reason to be near the river, even if that means forsaking his relationship with Frodo. All he wanted was for Frodo to be happy, whether that means with him or with his parents.

He would find the ring, down in the caves with Gollum, he would use it to save the company, and then he would destroy it, just like Frodo did. He looked down at the piece of parchment in front of him, not knowing what he was going to say, or if it would make any sense, or how to go about telling the rest of Hobbiton that he was going on an adventure, but that wouldn’t make him sound crazy.

“Lost for words?” Kili’s familiar voice came floating through the room.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the company or something?” Bilbo said, tiredness seeping into his voice.

“Yes, I probably should be.”

“Then why aren’t you?” Bilbo inquired softly.

“I can’t do it. I can’t look at them, any of them, without thinking of what happens after. What happens to Fili after.”

“Imagine how your mother reacted when she met Thorin in the Halls again.”

“God, his braids would have been in mortal peril.”

“There are so many different things that could have happened that day. You just can’t blame yourself for any of it. On the upside, we do have a chance to fix it now so…”

“We better not stuff it up,” Kili laughed bitterly, unshed tears shining in his eyes.

“Now off you go. Go and sing that melancholy song that makes me cry every time I hear it.” Bilbo smiled, using his hand to wipe away the tears. God, the pair of them, crying over something that hadn’t even happened yet.

“Fine.” Kili groaned, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He pushed himself up using the table and walked out of the dining room, preparing himself not to cry over words that meant so much to him, yet not enough to the rest of the company.

Unbeknownst to them, Fili had been standing in the doorway, listening to everything that they had been saying. It didn’t make sense, for them to talk about him like that. It was like he had died, like they had all died some time, and that Kili and Bilbo remembered something that no one else in this company did.

That scared him, more than he cared to admit, even to himself. What had happened that his brother couldn’t tell him? They had told each other everything, from the moment he was born they were bonded in every way, shape and form, but now, there was something that he had deemed too dangerous to tell his older brother, and instead trusted it to a relative stranger? How could he do that? Why would he do that?

Why?

He snuck away, placing himself in the corner of the room where the Company was gathered, so that no one would notice that he was gone. He would deal with his brother later.

***

Bilbo could hear them singing now, just faintly, as he moved closer to the door. He couldn’t stop himself from crying, as he remembered now those who survived, and those who did not.

_Far over the Misty Mountains cold,_

The fog had long settled over the battlements of Erebor, the mountain itself looking tired and run down, especially because of lack of use. Bilbo remembered looking up at that mountain, feeling both excited and afraid, the ground seemingly vibrating underneath the ground.

_To dungeons deep and caverns old._

The gold, piled high, almost reaching the ceiling. Smaug was there, seemingly dead, except for the vibrations that shook each of the piles every few seconds. It seemed impossible that he would ever find that stupid stone in here, the one that caused all of his problems.

_We must away ere break of day_

The sun rising over the burnt remains of Dale, people screaming for their loved ones lost, crying for the ones that were saved and the ones that were lost. This was what Bilbo wanted most of all to avoid, and the now burning wreckages were a constant reminder of what his mistakes have done to the people around him, and the people that he loved.

_To find our long forgotten gold._

The Arkenstone sat there proudly, shining on top of Erebor’s throne. This was what he was here for, searching for. At the time, he wondered if he was making a mistake, because something in his gut was telling him that this wasn’t something he should bring back to Thorin.

But he ignored his gut, even though that was what got Thorin killed, because he was more important. Bilbo loved him too much.

_The pines were roaring on the height,_

The pines were on fire, caused by both the Company and the Orcs. As Azog drew nearer, he knew that he needed to do something. And then somehow, through some miracle, his body seemed to move. He just moved, his only goal to save Thorin Oakenshield’s life. And he did.

_The winds were moaning in the night_

The sounds of orcs and wargs, carried on the wind, making it almost impossible for any member of the company to sleep. Those winds, they carried messages, the sounds of the dead and the alive, haunting Bilbo’s every moment.

_The fire was red, it flaming spread._

He could see from the top of the mountain Dale, as it was now just a beacon of flames. There were so many people who would have been slaughtered as they sleep, just because Bilbo and the Company couldn’t keep the dragon contained.

They should have known that there would be no way to kill it, not without the Black Arrow. They just needed to hope that some miracle would come, one they would later find out was sent in the form of Bard the Bowman.

_The trees like torches blazed with light._

And that miracle, the one Bilbo prayed for, it didn’t last long. They were all at war again, five different armies not knowing who was the enemy and who was the ally, just slaughtering everyone in their path in the hope that they would get out alive, to make it home to their families. The death count, Bilbo would later find out, would encompass more than sixty percent of all armies.

_The pines were roaring on the height_

Thorin, however much support he had from the dwarves of the Iron Hills, knew that it wouldn’t be enough. Orcs and Goblins and Elves and Men, all fighting each other because he was arrogant, because he succumbed to the gold sickness of his predecessors. He could not do anything about it now, could not call off a war just by saying stop and apologizing. No, the only way that he could bow out of this one was in death, and that wouldn’t be enough. Not ever.

_On silver necklaces they strung._

Go. That was all he wanted. Thorin was unflinching, however, would not turn away from his nephew as he was slaughtered. He deserved to know that someone cared about him in his final moments, enough to stand by him here. He would run nowhere. Fili deserved that much.

_The flowering stars on crowns they hung._

Kili looked at Tauriel, trying to tell her to go, run far away from here so she would be safe. But no sound would come out, as the sword ripped through his core. She would not move, did not flinch as Bolg ripped the sword through her too. She would go easily from this world, now that the one thing keeping her here was gone.

_The dragon fire, in twisted wire._

Fili and Kili were unmoving now, had been moved together. Fili protected Thorin, Kili protected Tauriel, and now, their efforts were in vain. They were all dead now, all together in wherever they went when they were gone. And for what? Just to leave the aching survivors behind.

_They meshed the light of moon and sun._

Tea is at 4:00. Don’t bother knocking. Bilbo wondered if they would come to tea this time around, or if maybe this time, they didn’t have to.

  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the Hobbit or else a lot more people would survive.
> 
> There is a lot of dialogue stolen from the movie as well, because it fit and I liked it.
> 
> Update coming next Sunday, hopefully.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> share the burden. 
> 
> its better that way.

three

And suddenly, they were on the road again. Marching, as a company towards the Lonely Mountain. It had been about two weeks since Bilbo had slept in his own bed, or somewhere comfortable, and his body was beginning to feel the strain of the life on the road. He definitely didn’t remember his body being as sore the first time around.

The company was still as distant from him as ever, which wasn’t the best thing, but he remembered what he was like the first couple of weeks on the road, all of his complaining and his whining, all while being rude and distant to the company. It took a few near death experiences to scare that out of him, that’s for sure.

Bofur was probably the one who was closest to who he was before, as he was still the dapper, cheerful and friendly dwarf that Bilbo remembered. He was also the one who was most likely to talk to Bilbo, not counting Kili, of course.

“How you holding up Master Baggins?” Bofur said cheerfully to him one day.

“Oh I’m fine Master Bofur. Just dreaming of a nice warm bed. Do you think we’ll stop in Rivendell?” Bilbo asked politely, not wanting to offend him.

“Definitely not, going on Thorin’s definite dislike of those tree-shaggers.” Bofur let out a small chuckle, making Bilbo smile inwardly.

“I think we will actually. Lord Elrond is said to be one of the only people in Middle Earth who is able to read the hidden runes on the map Thorin is carrying. I’d say we need him. Plus, I think they would get along if Thorin managed to realise that Lord Elrond isn’t anything like Thranduil.” He tried his hardest to make the words seem nonchalant, if anything, but Bofur wasn’t convinced.

“How do you know about that?”

“When Gandalf told me of your arrival, I did my research on all of you. Well, as many as I could find. The Shire doesn’t really carry many books about dwarves, although we do have a few. The Shire, for all its ignorance, is knowledgeable on some things.” Bilbo was lying through his teeth, and he was praying that Bofur didn’t know him well enough yet to call him out on it. Luckily enough for him, he didn’t, edging forward to talk to his brother instead.

Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief, wondering half-heartedly when he would have to tell them all about their respective fates, who would live on after this and who wouldn’t. That seemed to be the most common thought on his mind these past two weeks, and he wondered if it would ever leave his head.

“Do not trouble yourself with the future Master Baggins. Just trouble yourself with what’s happening here and now.” Kili said softly, urging his pony forward so he could catch up to Bilbo.

“Since when did you get so wise?” Bilbo half laughed.

“Since I lived my life twice, just like you.” Kili said, smiling.

“Great, I have to live with 13 insufferable dwarves, and you feel you need to make it worse by being an insufferable know it all,” the sarcasm evident in his voice.

“You know me Master Baggins, just have to annoy my elders all of the time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an uncle that I need to make relax a little bit.” Kili was full on grinning now, prompting Bilbo to return the smile.

“Be careful. You never know how he is feeling,” he half-heartedly warned, knowing that Thorin probably needed the laugh anyway.

“Since when did you get so wise?”

“Since I lived my life twice, just like you. Go on then, make him lighten up a bit. If it doesn’t do anything to him, it definitely will do something to the rest of the company.” Bilbo said, urging him on, but praying to the gods above that Kili didn’t drag his name into the aftermath. That probably wouldn’t end well.

Much to Kili’s chagrin, Thorin was not particularly happy to have all of his weaponry go suspiciously missing, a.k.a. hidden in Fili and Kili’s satchels and on their persons, and the lecture that they got that evening was definitely going to put them off playing practical jokes for the rest of the day, if not tomorrow as well.

After all, there was always the day after that to make the rest of the company lighten up.

But Fili wanted to find out what was going on with his brother. Things between them were changing, faster than he would ever like to admit, and Kili and Master Baggins seemed to be spending an awful lot of time together.

Were they courting?

Yes, that had to be it. Master Baggins was Kili’s One. That would explain the hushed conversations and the desire to spend more time with each other, and the long conversations that no one else was ever included in. They were courting, or at least, they most likely will be, if Kili ever got his act together and produced a suitable courting gift for him.

It would again fall underneath role of big brother to smack some sense into his younger brother, and he resolved to do it at the earliest possible opportunity.

Unluckily for him, however, an opportunity did not present itself until later that week, where his brother and his beloved had had many opportunities to be alone with each other.

The conversation, as Fili would later recall, embarrassment obvious in his cheeks.

Fili clutched tightly to his brothers arm and dragged him away from the rest of the company when they made camp, ignoring his protests.

“What are you doing?” Kili queried, confusion evident in his voice.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know,” Fili almost spat, slapping him up the head. “Now, you need to get your act together and start manning up. Have you even got a suitable courting gift in your head? How do you plan to make it? Have you already made promises and you will do that after the quest is over?”

“What in Mahal’s name are you talking about?” Kili was so confused about what Fili was talking about. He didn’t have plans to court anyone, well, if you didn’t count **her.**

“Master Baggins of course. Now, what are you doing about your gift?” Fili was getting impatient, but he suddenly became very confused when Kili started to laugh.

“Master Baggins?” He got out between laughs.

“Yes, idiot.” Fili slapped him again. “Be serious about this.”

“You think I want to court Master Baggins?” His laugher hadn’t ceased, which prompted Fili to rethink what he had been thinking about the pair.

“Well, yes. You have been spending an awful lot of time together lately,” he queried, watching Kili laugh even harder. “Why in Mahal’s name are you laughing?”

“First of all, no. Second of all, no. And third of all, I’m pretty sure his hearts set more on our uncle than me.” Kili said like it was obvious.“You seriously believed that we were courting?”

“Maybe,” Fili said bashfully, embarrassment setting in in the form of a pink stain on his cheeks.

“God, Fili.”

“Then humour me. What were you talking about when you go off with him, huh?” This stopped Kili in his tracks, the laughter halting almost instantly.

“Go on them.” Fili insisted.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t understand? Kili, we’ve been telling each other things since the day you were born, our deepest fears, the person we liked, what secrets we were keeping from mother. So whatever you are keeping from me, no matter what it is, it isn’t going to change anything. It never has.” Fili was confused by this point. There wasn’t anything in the world that would make him think any less of his brother.

“Yes it will. It will change everything, our whole dynamic, even the companies dynamic. This isn’t something that I can just tell you Fili. It’s too dangerous.” Dangerous. That didn’t even compute with him. What sort of secret could be dangerous?

“I’ll… I’ll… I’ll go to Uncle then,” he said, not really meaning it.  “Tell him about this dangerous secret, and then you’ll be forced to tell the entire company. So, if you don’t want them to find out, just tell me. I hereby solemnly swear that I will love you unconditionally, no matter what you have to tell me.”

“You died,” Kili whispered.

“What?”

“You died.” He said again, still too faintly for Fili to hear.

“What?”

“YOU DIED, OKAY! This quest, this adventure, has happened once before, in another universe or something of a similar nature. Only Bilbo and I remember it. We remember what happened, how we got there, all of the perils that we faced. I know that you fall at the hands of Azog, along with Uncle. I, on the other hand, am killed by Bolg, his second in command. We are both protecting people and we both fail. So there, there you have it. You die, because I can’t protect you, and I die because you’re already six feet underground and there isn’t anything you can do. And you know what, this time around, not protecting you, is what terrifies me the most. I don't want to tell anyone, because I don't know what they will expect of me after. And Mahal knows what Bilbo is thinking, because he has is own priorities for the people in his future. And you, you and Thorin and... You are all my priorities here. I am back here to save you.”

Oh. Just, oh. He had been carrying this around for a long time, Fili could tell, and he could understand why. The expectations of you would suddenly rise, and people would depend on you to know what to do. But most of the time you couldn't, because no matter how much foresight you had into one universe, who knows was going to happen in this one. And oh, his head was now swimming with memories that could not have been from this life. Most predominantly, to his dismay, was the phantom pain of a sword that had gone straight through his stomach.

“How did I die?” He asked quietly, knowing that the answer would tell him if his brother was telling the truth.

“Sword straight through the stomach then dropped off a cliff,” Kili said simply, staring at the ground.

And so he wasn’t lying. The phantom pains in his stomach were telling him as such.

“You know telling me this will change the future, right?” Fili tried to make a joke, tried to lighten the situation a bit, which make Kili smile with disbelief.

“You believe me?” He said, surprised.

“Yeah. You’re my brother. I can’t not believe you. It’s in the big brother contract.” Fili said resolutely. And it was, the clause being that he had to love him unconditionally.

“Lucky for me that exists then.” Kili said softly.

“Definitely.” There was a pause, before Fili spoke again. “Are you ever going to tell Thorin?”

“I want to, because it will help the company, but I can't. I know how to kill the dragon, who can do it, where we can get the supplies from. I know the safest route through the Mirkwood Forest, and I know what the moon runes say. But the moment I tell him, the moment that I confide that I know what is about to happen, things change. I am suddenly looked upon to make those decisions, make those calls, and I still don't know what's right and wrong. I don't know how to tell Thorin he succumbed to the sickness that claimed his father and his grandfather. I don't know Fili, and I'm scared.”

“You know I love you, right? And that I am here for you, no matter what you decide.” He said, trying to reassure himself more than Kili.

“Of course I know that. It’s in the little brother contract, remember?” Kili said, trying to lighten the mood, even though the sadness that was in his voice seemingly ruined that.

“Of course.” Fili smiled, a real smile, as he walked back to camp, his heart heavy. He was doomed to die, no matter what happened. He quite honestly didn’t know whether he could change the future or not, even though it was something that hadn’t come to pass.

At least now Bilbo and Kili had someone to share the burden with.

***

On one side of the Mirkwood Forest, an auburn haired elf stood on guard, watching for any signs of movement from the trees. It would be many days before a company of dwarves came wandering through the forest, but this time, she would not miss them. She could not miss them.

Her head was swimming with thoughts, with memories of a future that had not happened yet, but one she remembered experiencing. Where she had given up her life because she could not think of living one without him.

Now, he was her only goal, to get to him, to keep him safe, to make sure that he knew that he was loved, no matter how he exits this world.

She only hopes he remembers her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OwI know I said expect an update Sunday, but I wrote this after I posted the last chapter and I had to get this out there.
> 
> This time, expect an update Sunday.
> 
> I do not own the Hobbit, or else Bilbo would have ended up with Thorin.


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ori decides to prove himself as a badass

Ori didn’t know what to think about the current situation. First it was just Bilbo and Kili, but now Fili has seemingly joined the mix. It was definitely a secret, especially because the only time that they really talked was when they were alone, and it had to be something big, or else they would have told the rest of the company.

He was absolutely dying inside to watch them go over and talk about something that he was desperate to know about, but, being as shy as he was, he definitely wasn’t going to go and ask about it. He expected someone like Bofur or Balin to do that.

Each of the dwarves would find out this secret though, Ori reasoned. Each one had their ways, Nori through his spying for example. Plus, they were on the road constantly, and it was extremely hard to hide a secret in these conditions. He was bound to find out eventually.

So he trudged on in the rain, sitting atop his pony, wondering where they were going to stop for camp that night and praying that it would be good. This time, however, he was sorely disappointed.

Him and the rest of the company were having a pretty good time sitting around a fire, waiting patiently for the food that was bound to be delicious, especially because they were so hungry.

“Hey Ori, can you go take these bowls to Fili and Kili?” Bombur said, brandishing the bowls in front of him.

“Sure,” he whispered quietly, noting Bilbo’s reaction to it.

“I can do it Ori, if you want,” Bilbo offered a hint of panic in his voice. Ori would have usually let him, but he needed to find out what was going on, and this was an opportunity too good to pass up.

“No, it’s okay, I can do it,” he said gently, getting up from the log on which he was sitting. At this point, Bilbo was breaking out in a cold sweat, because Ori didn’t know what he was getting himself into. There were trolls tonight.

Bilbo had tried his best to convince Thorin to camp somewhere else tonight, somewhere safer, but without a good explanation as to why, he would not budge from this spot. There was also the issue of Kili showing off, which was something he was bound to do.

He knew how to get rid of the trolls, how to defeat them, and Bilbo had a sinking feeling in his gut that Kili was going to use that to his advantage. Which meant the ponies would be taken.

“Ori, wait a moment,” he shouted on impulse. “I’m coming too.”

Ori may not know what he was getting himself into, but Bilbo did, and he needed to do anything he could to prevent it. But he was too late.

“Where are the ponies?” Kili said, his voice thick with fake worry.

“What are you talking about? They’re right in front of you, dumbass,” Fili said as he rolled his eyes and smacked Kili up the head. “This isn’t time for pranks.”

“No, we’re missing some, I’m sure of it,” Kili insisted, gesturing to the ponies.

“We better not be, or else Thorin will murder us. Anyway, it’s your fault. You’re the one on watch,” he said cockily, glancing back to see if any of the dwarves were coming out with food.

“Count them. We are supposed to have fourteen, but I only see eleven.” This was when the dread started to settle into Fili’s stomach. It was probably just a prank from his brother, he reasoned, no reason to be concerned.

But he did count the ponies, and he did only count eleven, which meant that this wasn’t a prank. And then Kili laughed.

“They were taken- taken by- by trolls!” he managed to get out from between his laughter.

“What?” Fili said emotionlessly.

“Oh yes, but it’s all okay and we get them back in the end. Bilbo sorts it out in the end, using his magic burgling skills. He should be arriving just about… now.” There was a rustling in the trees behind them, and Kili smiled. “Bilbo? I sort of let trolls take the ponies! Sorry but can you like do your burgling thi…”

“Trolls?” Ori’s quiet voice came floating out from behind the trees, quivering and quaking in fear.

“Shit Kili,” Fili muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “No Ori, there aren’t any trolls, Kili was joking around.”

But Ori wasn’t convinced. “Are- are you sure? I mean, there are only eleven ponies. Shouldn’t you maybe find the three?”

“Ori, it’s okay, they’re just behind the tree. I can see them from here. Here, I’ll take the dinner, and you can go back to camp, okay?” Bilbo’s voice came floating through from the trees, but his words seemed to have no impact on Ori.

“Are you sure that you can see the ponies? Can I see them?” He said, beginning to gain confidence.

“Uh…” Bilbo faltered, not knowing what to do. Ori was catching on now, realising that something was going on. He moved to where Bilbo was standing and counted the ponies. Still eleven.

“Where are the rest of the ponies Master Baggins?” Ori asked, some sort of sarcasm present in his voice.

“I swear they were just here Ori, I promise,” Bilbo stuttered, pointing to thin air.

“Are those trolls real? The ones you were talking about before?” Ori asked quietly, the fear seeping back in. Just as he said it, there was a flicker of light from around the corner, and a quiet muffled groan.

“Oh.” Ori said it so quietly Bilbo almost missed it, if it wasn’t for the fact he was now as white as a sheet. “How did you know about the trolls Kili? And don’t you dare tell me you snuck up and saw them, because you said before that you let the ponies get taken and…” Ori trailed off, hearing the footsteps get closer.

“What would you say if I told you Master Baggins and I have lived our lives twice?” Kili said gently, reaching for his sword. Ori appeared to pale even more.

“Is that even possible?” He stuttered quickly.

“Never mind that now. If I can’t trick them into not eating you, how am I supposed to save the ponies now?” Bilbo said frantically, beginning his descent into panic. “And no, Kili, I don’t have that ring yet, so I can’t just sneak in and grab them.”

“What ring?” Kili asked, confusion overtaking him for a second.

“Never mind, I’ll tell you later. Priority one is those ponies,” Bilbo said, beginning to pace around the clearing.

“Can’t you do your burglar thing like you did with Smaug?” Kili was confused here. If he could steal from Smaug, the greatest calamity of the dwarf age, surely he could steal a few ponies away from three very stupid trolls.

“I need that stupid ring for that, which I will tell you about later,” Bilbo said, gesturing wildly around with his hands.

“Okay, then what else do we do?”

“I don’t think that there is anything to be done except for do it the same way we did it before, which was super dangerous, and I don’t know if I can kill that many hours and…” Bilbo began to ramble, which left Kili to try to calm him down, which was something that he was honestly not the best at.

“Relax, you got this. You’ve done it once, you can’t stuff it up.” They began to mutter to themselves for a few seconds, debating whether this was a good idea or not.

“Are you also super lost here or?” Fili muttered, looking over at Ori, who was staring open mouthed at Bilbo and Kili, wondering what in Mahal’s name was coming out of their mouths. The more they said, the more he believed that they had really lived their lives twice. He nodded frantically.

“Wait, I’ve got it. You say you’re like a fairy spirit or something like that, and do what you did before, but relate it to the ponies instead of the dwarves. Then I’ll get Gandalf and he can do the smashy rock thingy, the sunlight will stream through and the day will be saved.” Kili’s eyes were lit up, like he had just come up with plan of the century, which in Bilbo’s opinion did not stretch to what he had come up with.

“I would tell you that it is a terrible plan and could get me killed, but I shall refrain from doing that as it is currently all that we have to go on. How much do you want to skip dinner to make this plan work?” Bilbo gestured down at the now cold bowls of soup, which made Kili laugh.

“God, I totally forgot about that. And Fee and Ori, actually. Are you guys cool with skipping dinner to avoid walking for the next few months? Good, lets go.” Kili barged through them, grabbing their arms and dragging them towards the direction of the camp.

“Good going Kili. Thanks for everything, you idiot.” Bilbo muttered, shaking his head. He would deal with Ori, Fili and Kili later. There was definitely more important things to worry about right now. But they were second on his list.

He mentally marked down a time on the journey to the troll caves where he could explain everything to Ori, Fili and Kili, especially with what happened when the latter two were dead, and to yell at them for being absolutely idiotic, and then, once that was all done and dusted, he realised he was about to take on three trolls. Again. Great. Just great.

Thanks a lot, Kili.

Meanwhile, Kili was having a lot of trouble trying to convince Thorin to come on a potentially dangerous mini-quest to find Gandalf in order to save their lost ponies without telling him specifically that him and Fili lost the ponies in the first place. 

“I need to find Gandalf.” Kili said, panting, as he stood in front of Thorin, who was leaning casually against a rock, his eyes alert.

“Whatever you need him for, it can wait until morning. Go back to the ponies,” he said calmly, not looking away from wherever he was staring.

“I kind of need him now,” Kili tried to insist.

“I don’t care. It can wait until morning. Go back to the ponies.” Kili could already tell that Thorin wasn’t going to budge on this, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

“Please Uncle.”

“Go back to the ponies.”

“I’m begging you.”

“Go back to the ponies.”

“Please.”

“Go back to the ponies.” Kili knew that he wasn’t going to get any other sort of response out of his uncle other than _go back to the ponies_ , which infuriated him. He could feel that his next words were going to be the turning point and that they would be when he burst. He tried to calm down, but to no avail.

“There aren’t any ponies!” He yelled, feeling suddenly out of breath.

“What?” Thorin’s face was a blank slate, letting no emotions through. This raised all of the red flags in Kili’s mind, because this was always the face he pulled when Kili was in serious trouble.

“Fili and I may have accidently let them be taken by trolls but it’s okay and we have a plan to get them back and everything’s fine but we need Gandalf and its urgent or else we’ve lost like three separate ponies and if you could please get up and help us find Gandalf but all the while not punish me please?” Kili said meekly, appearing to cower away from his uncle. 

“You two are in so much trouble.”

“We know. Now if you will please help us find Gandalf that would be great.”

“Mahal’s beard. Start waking the rest of the company up.”

Turns out it is a lot harder than expected to find a wizard when he doesn’t want to be found. Kili knew that he wasn’t going to appear till the last minute, when everyone had almost lost hope that he was going to come, but then, miraculously out of the blue, he would just appear and everyone would be saved. He knew deep down in his gut that that was what was going to happen this time, but he still wasn’t going to sit around and wait for it.

“Where is he? He can’t have wandered far?” Bifur complained, his Khuzdul jagged and filled with sleep.

“Isn’t he supposed to be looking out for us?” Nori whined.

“He’s doing a crap job of it if that’s what’s in the job description,” Gloin muttered.

Kili felt awful bad for them, as he was the one that had dragged them out of bed, with tough shakes and harsh words. They knew that the ponies had been taken by trolls, because Ori couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut, but they didn’t know that he had let them be taken, because it appears that Ori could keep his mouth shut when it mattered.

“Did you really let the ponies get taken by trolls, lad?” Dwalin asked, walking up next to him.

“It’s not like I knew what was going to happen!” Kili said smoothly, the lie feeling coarse against the inside of his mouth. Behind him, Fili had to stifle a laugh.

For what seemed like the millionth time today, Ori didn’t know what to think. It was like someone had shoved all the knowledge in the world into him, then taken it back out again and left a gaping hole in his brain where that knowledge used to be. He was finding himself yearning for a life that he didn’t remember, one where he didn’t know anything that had gone on. Was he a hero? Did he fade into the background after Smaug was defeated? Was Smaug defeated? Who survived? Who died? What happened after?

There were so many burning questions in his mind, ones that would tell him what was to happen after this was all over. But then again, if he knew what was going to happen, did that suddenly mean that what they told him would happen wouldn’t.

God, it blew his mind that he could potentially know what happens in the future, have that sort of foresight. If he was going to die in the future, this time he could avoid it, and if he couldn’t, he could do it on his own terms.

Suddenly, he was pushed out of his own thoughts by the sight that was almost too strange to comprehend. Bilbo was just standing there, talking to three massive trolls about the best way to cook the three ponies for dinner.

Gandalf was nowhere to be seen, which meant the dwarves might have to save Bilbo themselves. That was a terrifying thought, but there were things that needed to be done, and he was going to do them.

He had paid enough attention in lessons, less in history and more in writing. But he had to, needed to know enough to know what would defeat trolls. Trolls. Trolls. What defeated trolls?

Sunlight! It was sunlight. Everything that Kili had said earlier came flooding back to him, about how Gandalf had smashed the rock, probably the one in front of him, in order to save the dwarves. He didn’t know where they were then, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was where they were now.

He rustled around in his pack for something that would do as a pick. Theoretically, he could split the rock in half with one blow, but he would need to figure out where the weak spot was. All rocks had weak spots, different places where if you hit them, the rock would split. Every part of the rock was a weak spot, and each one would split something different. That was why dwarves made such good miners. Every dwarf had the ability to find these weak spots, but the strength of that ability varied from dwarf to dwarf.

It was a shame Ori could barely do it.

“Bofur!” he hissed. “Bofur!”

“What laddie?” he whispered back impatiently.

“When you see the sun start to rise, crack the rock, okay?” Ori brandished the small pick in his hand, silently praying to the Valar for Bofur to accept without question.

“Why?”

“Please, please just do it, okay,” he pleaded, his voice now thick with worry. The sun was almost fully up by now, and Bofur still hadn’t accepted the pick. “Please.”

“I don’t know what you are thinking, but it better work.” Bofur took the pick and begun to feel the rock, looking for the weak spot. “What do you want me to do laddie?”

“Split it right down the middle. Please work, please work,” he muttered, watching Bofur intently.

“What are you doing Bofur?” Thorin asked, not looking up from where he was readying his weapons.

“Sssh,” Ori hissed, forgetting all forms of etiquette, as he waited.

“Just eat him now!” One of the trolls said. “The suns coming up anyway.”

“Yeah!”

“Pick him up Bill. We’ll all have a bite.”

There wasn’t much time left, and he was going to…

“Got it!” Bofur cried triumphantly, before swinging the pick down. There was a loud crack and almost exactly half of the rock came tumbling down onto the ground. He looked back at the trolls and could see Bilbo, trapped in the grip of one of the trolls, who had now all been turned to stone.

It worked.

He could hear the dwarves whooping and cheering with excitement, and pride swelled up in him. They didn’t need Gandalf this time. They could save themselves.

“Well done Ori,” Bofur said cheerily, slapping him on the back before going over to Bilbo, raising the pick and swinging it down in an attempt to free him.

Suddenly, there was a rustling from behind him. Gandalf came striding through the bushes, head held high and chest puffed out like he had just solved everyone's problems. Ori, Fili and Kili all burst out laughing.

“Oh, trolls!” Gandalf said with surprise in his voice, although something in Ori told him that he was faking it. “I knew that you could do it!”

This just made Ori laugh even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have fun with this 3k thing i wrote in like two hours the day i got back from my hike


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the company finds out in the most anticlimactic way possible

five

“You have to tell me about the ring Master Baggins, I’m dying to know what it is.”

That was what Bilbo had to put up with for the past three days as they rode towards the troll hoard. He may not have explicitly stated that that was where they were going, but Kili definitely knew, considering all of the teasing he had gotten, referring to the ‘letter opener’ that they were going to pick up from the troll caves.

Thorin shifted uneasily on top of his pony. Master Baggins and Kili were once again sitting next to each other, chatting light heartedly. He had attempted to ignore the feeling in his chest about what was going on with Kili, but it was getting worse and worse.

The feeling inside of him, well, it was bad and concerning and troubling and a mixture of all the negative emotions at once. It felt like Kili knew something he didn’t, something that could help Thorin. What was it that he couldn’t tell his uncle? Was he courting someone? Mahal forbid, were they married?

He tried to calm himself by telling himself that he was reaching all the wrong conclusions, that it was probably something harmless like the latest prank or something. He didn’t have Master Baggins pegged as the prankster type, but he had been wrong about people before.

However, the hobbit’s lack of reluctance to come on this quest and endanger his life for a bunch of dwarves that he had never met before, well, that said something about him. The familiarity with them, the way he acted, made it seem that Master Baggins had known dwarves for many years, but Thorin was relatively sure that no members of the company had come across a hobbit in all of their years of travelling.

Except Kili. Kili’s degree of familiarity with the hobbit in question made it look like Master Baggins and Kili had met before, maybe on the way through to the Blue Mountains or something. But Kili had only ever known the Blue Mountains, was born there, lived there all of his life while his Uncle moved around in search of work.

So how could they already be this close without having met before?

He glanced over at Master Baggins, finding him surrounded by Fili, Kili and Ori as he chattered away, smiling and laughing. It was eating Thorin up inside, not knowing what was going on with some of the members of his Company, and he resolved to find out what.

Kili and Bilbo, on the other hand, were also being eaten up inside, due to the fact that any day now, they were due to be attacked by a pack of orcs who would be tracking them under Azog’s orders. That was terrifying to Bilbo, knowing that Azog and Bolg were still alive, still hunting down Durin’s line, which put everyone here in danger.

But they were both trying to ignore that feeling, and they were doing so by telling the tale of one of the many mishaps and adventures along the road. This time, it was about the Grand Halls of Erebor, something that Fili and Ori had never seen before.

Slowly but steadily, Bilbo was running out of stories to tell, ones that had a happy ending, ones that made the company feel good about what they were doing. But as many happy moments as there were on the quest, there weren’t enough that wouldn’t either spoil what was to come, or that didn’t have a happy ending altogether.

There was a part in Bilbo that yearned to tell Thorin about the gold sickness, tell him what happened, what the Arkenstone would do to him while he was still sane enough to listen. But Kili had persistently told him no, that Thorin’s path needed to be of his own choosing.

“When did you get so wise?” Bilbo would joke, half of him believing Kili was right and the other half telling him just to man up and tell him about the entire quest, all the way from the beginning to the end.

“How long to go?” Kili pestered, riding up beside Bilbo.

“How should I know?” Bilbo groaned, wondering how long it would be before Kili started asking about something, like the ring, or what happened after he was dead.

“You’ve done it before,” he retorted.

“Yeah, so have you,” Bilbo said weakly, his eyes crinkling.

“Whatever,” Kili rolled his eyes sarcastically, a laugh threatening to escape.

“How long to go until what?” Ori said quietly from behind the pair. As per usual, Ori and Fili were constantly riding behind Kili and Bilbo, desperate for any sort of information about the quest, about what happened after. Both of them, to Ori and Fili’s dismay, still remained tightly lipped, no matter how much they pestered.  

“Till Rivendell, silly. Lord Elrond can read the moon runes on the map, but only if we get there quick enough. It has to be done on the right day at the right time yada yada yada…” Kili rambled, not really caring.

“Under the light of the same moon on which the runes were written,” Bilbo recited, remembering what Lord Elrond had said.

“Yeah that.”

“Is there food in Rivendell? Like, decent food?” Fili wondered aloud.

“Or a nice soft bed?” Ori looked like he was about to drool, and Bilbo could definitely sympathise with the young dwarf.

“Both. They have the softest beds that you can imagine, and endless amounts of food. It did take us a while to convince them to cook meat though. Bombur nearly had a heart attack when he realised they didn’t know how to cook it,” Bilbo chuckled.

“Did I have to eat greens? I don’t like green food,” Ori said grumpily, huffing.

“Yes you did, Ori, but by the end Bombur had snuck down into the kitchen and taught some of the elven chefs some hearty dwarven cooking, with fish and meats and, my personal favourite, chips!” Bilbo said, knowing about the youngest dwarf’s particular fondness for potatoes.

“God, those chips were heavenly!” Kili moaned, making Ori groan in despair.

“Yes, that’s because Bombur cooked them. Anything Bombur cooks is heavenly, you should know that by now. But don’t tell him I said that, because his ego will inflate to a thousand times its normal size,” Bilbo fake whispered.

“Can it even do that?” Ori wondered. “It’s probably already huge.”

“Probably. We’re dwarves, remember, and we have the spectacular ability to have our egos inflate to take over the entirety of Middle Earth.” Fili said, laughing.

“Mahal, that’s true,” Kili said to no-one in particular. They all seemed to chuckle at that, riding on in a comfortable silence for a while.

What were they talking about? Thorin had made no plans to stop in Rivendell, or to accept help from those bloody tree-shaggers, and he especially would not eat any food that was put in front of him there. Who knows what they might be trying to do. What they said next, however, really troubled him.

“Shit,” Kili said out of the blue. The three all turned to look at him.

“Kili?” Fili queried.

“We forgot about Goblin Town,” He said, fear in his voice. Bilbo instantly paled.

“Goblin Town?” Ori whispered, fear sneaking into his voice.

“After we leave Rivendell, we end up camping the night on this mountain. And everything is fine and dandy, until suddenly the floor just caves in on us and we end up falling smack bang into the home of the Goblin King. It’s all okay, everyone gets out, except Bilbo, who gets majorly lost, and then suddenly magically reappears using… his ring! I think,” Kili said, the fake cheer in his voice intending to reassure everyone but missing the mark.

“What ring?” Ori asked quietly.

“That ring you mentioned before, the one you said helped you with your burgling. Can you use it to teleport or something? Because that would explain how you got out, and how you managed to steal from Smaug, and how you could…” Kili rambled, beginning to sprout out theories left and right. Bilbo cut him off.

“No Kili, I can’t use the ring to teleport. I could use it to render myself invisible.” That got a loud gasp from Kili, a quiet gasp from Oi arnd a roll of the eyes from Fili.

“Really?” Fili said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Yes, but it wasn’t all good. I didn’t want to have to tell you about this really, because I am actually quite ashamed about it,” Bilbo stared at the ground, recounting in his head the events he put his nephew through because of that ring.

“What do you mean?” Ori wondered.

“Well, that ring, the one I used to steal from Smaug, is actually the One Ring, which was created by Sauron. It tempted me when I found it in the goblin caves, and I put it on my finger and bam, suddenly no one could see me. All of the races had been trying to destroy it for centuries, and so when it came to light that I had it, my nephew Frodo volunteered to go on a quest much like this one to destroy it in the firey pits of Mount Doom. He went with Gimli, who you all know, Legolas, son of Thranduil, Aragorn and Boromir, and three other hobbits,” Bilbo recounted, wondering vaguely what would happen now that he is going to change history.

The names all elicited some sort of reaction from each of the dwarves, good for Gimli and bad for Legolas. “How could Gimli go travelling with an elf?” Kili asked, thinking about the red haired elf that he vaguely remembered.

“Was that ring actually made by Sauron?” Ori queried,

“I reckon Balin told us about that ring once? Did you really carry it throughout the quest?” Fili wondered aloud.

“Not all at once! Legolas is actually quite nice, but he does take some getting used to. You will actually meet him later, but he won’t make the best impression. Yes, the ring was actually made by Sauron, and yes I carried it throughout the entirety of the quest,” Bilbo answered, thankful that their reactions weren’t negative.

“Did Gimli really get his own quest?” Fili wondered, thinking about how much begging it would have taken for Gloin to let Gimli go.

“Yes he did,” Bilbo repeated.

“All because of that ring?” Ori said quietly.

“All because of it. Although I would like to go back and get it, because it needs to be destroyed one way or another, and I would rather do it than have someone else do it, because I do not want to burden someone else with my problem,” Bilbo said calmly, although his insides were doing flips at potentially what would happen with that ring.  

“Are you going to get tempted like…” Kili trailed off, white as a sheet. Bilbo instantaneously knew what he was talking about, but Fili and Ori both looked confused. He motioned that he would tell them later, although that later might be after the quest because he didn’t want to trouble them with this information, and turned to face Kili.

“I survived it for eighty years once Kili, I can survive it for another three I’m sure,” he said, attempting to be reassuring.

“But Uncle…” Kili pushed, and Bilbo tried to smile.

“Yes, and I promise that he won’t slip. It will be fine.” Bilbo said, tasting the lie in the front of his teeth. Truthfully, he had no idea what was going to happen, but he wasn’t above reassuring these dwarves to make sure they stayed alive for a few more days than last time.

“Are you sure?” The worry in Kili’s voice was hard to miss, and it sent chills down Bilbo’s spine.

“Yes Kili, he’ll be fine,” he said reassuringly, trying to convince himself more than Kili now. “We’ll all be just fine.”

Slip. Thorin slipped. It was all clear now, what Master Baggins and Kili and Fili and Ori all knew. They all knew the future. The sinking feeling in his gut was explained now, the one he had had from the moment they had left the safety of the Blue Mountains. He was going to slip into the gold sickness, something he had been terrified of from the moment he saw his grandfather lose himself.

His line was cursed, cursed with something that he had once suffered from, and that terrified him. He was burning up with questions now, about who lived and who died, whether he was a good and kind and just ruler, whether Bil- Master Baggins stayed in the Mountain and made it his home, or if he returned to the safe confines of his hobbit hole. What happened when this was all over, and did he live to see it?

Tucked up in his bedroll that night, he had left Kili and Fili on first watch, and Ori and Master Baggins on the second. He knew he would not sleep that night, because he would be too busy waiting for them to come alive, to tell stories about what the future would bring.

No dwarf slept that night, all of them in the same boat as Thorin. Each one of them had an inkling onto what was going on, some like Thorin with the time travel theory, and others with the courting theory. There were some especially ludicrous theories coming out of Bofur and Oin, but no-one believed a word they was saying.

Some of these theories consisted of, but not limited to, Master Baggins was secretly a dragon, Fili would abdicate and go and marry an Ent, god knows what that was, and Master Baggins would help him escape and Kili was to marry an elf that would help them escape the Mirkwood Forest.

He had been listening to every member of the company as they talked, absorbing their words and making sure that he wasn’t going crazy, wasn’t drawing short straws. And they all agreed, judging by the typical point of conversation now on the road.

All of the dwarves bar himself and the Fantastic Four, as Nori had nicknamed them, were all in agreement that they were plotting something. Most of them, a.k.a. the mature ones, were all seriously considering the time travel theory, as if they had actually been sent back from the future. There were flaws with that theory though, especially relating to their age. Kili, Fili and Ori had aged exactly the same way, day by day, as usual, and there had been no strange days where they had gone to bed younger and woken up ten, twenty or thirty years older. That would have been a sight to see in Kili’s case though, seeing him as a mature grown up instead of as the child he still wanted to be.

Master Baggins, on the other hand, Thorin couldn’t be sure. He could be sent from the future, because Thorin had no knowledge of hobbit aging patterns, and therefore could not be sure of how old Master Baggins should be compared to if he didn’t time travel at all.

“I think I’m supposed to be taking over your watch shift in an hour, but I thought that maybe I should wake up now and talk to you. I mean, when else are we going to get a moment alone.” Ori’s voice pierced the silent night air, and Thorin grinned inwardly to himself. This was what he was waiting for. He stared over at Dwalin, who was staring right back at him, eyes wide with excitement.

“Time travel?” Thorin mouthed at him, receiving a nod in response. They were on the same page then, as per usual.

“Maybe you should wake Bilbo up too Ori. He could tell us about Erebor again,” Fili whispered, excitement in his voice.

“Or I could tell you, if you want. I think the burglar may need a bit more sleep,” Kili said, his voice tinged with melancholy.

“What is it little brother?”

“It’s not about me, really. More about our line. Bilbo doesn’t want to tell you this, doesn’t want to burden  you with this, but I think you need to know. Hell, the entire company needs to know, needs to know about me and Bilbo, about the future we have seen, the one we have lived, and what happens to Thorin after.”

Thorin was both elated and crushed. He was right, confirmed by Dwalin’s wide eyes, but he knew what Kili was talking about when he talked about what happened to him after.

He looked around, made eye contact with Balin, Gloin, Dori, Bifur and Bombur, trying to convey an apology for something he hadn’t even done yet. They all nodded at him, which took away some of the sinking feeling in his gut, but not all of it.

“The Arkenstone, the one rock we started this quest for, is something I want nothing more than to destroy.” Thorin bristled slightly at this, but he knew deep in his heart that if his nephew wanted to destroy something that precious, he must have a reason for it.

“Its cursed, see, cursed with dragon sickness, something that makes you lust for precious materials, things like gold and mithril. Eventually, you go insane, pushing everyone away until all you are surrounded by is gold. If anyone tries to take that gold, you will stop at nothing to get it back. That’s what the Arkenstone does, and that’s what happened to Thorin.”

Now, all Thorin wanted was to smash that stone into a thousand pieces. He could feel the eyes of every dwarf in this company on him, all of them trying to convey forgiveness in a look. He locked eyes with Dwalin, who had tears swimming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Thorin mouthed, willing himself not to cry.

“I forgive you,” Dwalin mouthed back, and Thorin wanted to sing with happiness, if he did sing. The company did not blame him, although they didn’t experience it first hand. If they did, he wondered, would the aftermath be different.

Would he be different?

“And then what?” Fili prompted, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Bilbo steals the Arkenstone, claims it as his fourteenth share of the treasure, and gives it to Thranduil.” For some reason that Thorin couldn’t explain, that revelation stung worse than the many sword wounds he had amassed. But he let his nephew continue, because something in him told him that Master Baggins must have had a good reason to betray him like that.

“Thranduil and Bard, the leader of Lake Town at the time, planned to trade the Arkenstone back to Thorin in exchange for things they wanted, so that there would be peace. Except it backfired, and Thorin declared war on them to reclaim the Arkenstone.” Thorin felt a tear slide down his cheek. He had done that, put the lives of his sister-sons and his company at risk over a rock?

“Goblins and Orcs seized this opportunity and attacked the dwarves while they were fighting the elves and the men, but they all had to band together to defeat them both. I can’t exactly tell you any more than that, because this is where Fili and I die, both protecting someone. So yeah…” Kili finished awkwardly, left staring off into the distance.

Thorin didn’t know what to think. He had willingly put his sister-sons lives on the line, and then lost them over a rock. How could he do such a thing? He did understand Master Baggins’ decision to keep it from him though, because who knows how he could have reacted. But now, with the knowledge of what was to come, maybe this time he could avoid it. If he was being careful enough.

Dwalin was staring intently at him, trying to get Thorin to look over at him, but Thorin would not budge. He rolled over, staring up at the stars for a long while before closing his eyes. If it was not his turn to watch, he would not needlessly stay awake.

All night he was plagued by gold, towers and towers of it. He did not sleep that night, nor would he for many nights after.


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath

six

It had been an adventurous few weeks, to be sure, but Dwalin thought that last night took the cake. There was nothing in his many years that could have prepared him for what Kili was claiming, and nothing that could have convinced him that it wasn’t true.

This was going to go down in the record books, Dwalin thought, as being the only thing that scared him. He had seen King Thror suffer from this, remembered his Father and how he came home, scared out of his mind that he would be executed for something pointless, like misspelling something or missing a training session. In a way, it was a good thing that they weren’t in the mountain anymore, because if they were, it was more than likely that all of Durin’s line would have fallen to the gold sickness. 

He might have fallen prey to the gold sickness. 

He was part of Durin’s line, although more distantly than Thorin, Kili and Fili. He or Balin could have fallen prey to this, could have disgraced their family by craving gold, by wanting it more than anything else in the world.

But this new revelation also brought its perks. One, they were going to be able to cut weeks off of the journey time because of this, knowing where orc packs would be and how to avoid them, knowing what the runes on the map said, having all of this knowledge about what was to come.

But the best part, and simultaneously the worst, was watching Thorin tear himself apart for the best way to confront his nephew about what he now knew, about the best way to apologize for getting them killed, for the best way to plan with him, to include him in things that he wouldn’t usually be included in before this, like diplomatic talks and the best route to take. 

“Don’t beat yourself up about this laddie. He’ll be fine about it, I’m sure.” Balin had tried to reassure Thorin countless times, same with Dori, but neither of them could get through to him. He was easily the most stubborn dwarf on this entire quest, which was definitely saying something. 

“But what if he can’t forgive me?” 

“I’m sure he has already forgiven you, due to the fact that he has just spent the better part of six weeks riding alongside you, desperately seeking your approval in everything he does,” Dori said calmly. He was probably the best person to talk to Thorin, because he didn’t need to worry about his hair going grey. His hair was already gray because of Nori, and so another stubborn dwarf wasn’t that much of a change from his everyday routine. 

But even for him, convincing Thorin not to chop off his braids was still an ordeal in itself, something that Dori was definitely struggling with. 

“It hasn’t happened yet, and they are still both alive, so it’s fine,” Nori had said, which was partly reassuring, but also partly terrible, and did cause Thorin to yank out a chunk of his hair in frustration.

It had been less than six hours since everything had changed, but already Dori and Balin were prepared to pull out their last resort. Bilbo Baggins. 

They didn’t yet know what Bilbo’s connection to Thorin was in the future, but it was something, because it had taken all of three days to realise that he was the only person in this company that was able to talk him down from anything, from fretting over the most pointless things to worrying about the safety of each member of the company. He could do it with anyone, but on Thorin it seemed to be the most effective.

“Um Master Baggins?” Dori began, trotting up to ride alongside him. Balin followed suit, coming up to meet him on the opposite side of Bilbo.

“Is everything okay Master Dori?” He said, true concern filling his voice. 

“I don’t know, but I think you can help me,” he said, watching as Bilbo’s face changed into something indescribable. 

“What do you mean?” he said, his voice not giving away anything.

“How much of last night did you hear, laddie?” Balin asked gently. Bilbo’s stomach dropped. 

“I was honestly hoping no-one heard that,” he said, a half-hearted chuckle escaping from his lips.

“Did you honestly expect us not to listen in though? The entire company has been curious about Kili, Fili, Ori and you for weeks, and when Thorin put you all on watch last night, it was obvious that it was to find out about what you were doing. We thought you were courting, for Mahal’s sake!” Dori rambled, making Bilbo suppress a smile. 

“Courting?” he chuckled.

“Well, that was mainly Thorin’s theory, to be honest,” Balin confessed. 

“Mahal,” Bilbo said dramatically, rolling his eyes. 

“Indeed. But now we need your help with something more serious,” Dori said, his face retreating back into its stone façade. 

“What can I do for you?”

“Thorin is threatening to cut off his braids because he thinks he got his nephews killed, even though it happened in another universe, they’re both alive and well and they have both forgiven him,” Balin said seriously. “We were hoping that you laddie, might be able to talk him out of it, because you seem to have a penchant for reassuring members of Durin’s line.”

God, that sounded like Thorin through and through. His nephews were priority one, not the gold sickness, not the dragon, and knowing that he got them killed would have been agonisingly painful, just like the first time. He had died thinking that Kili was still alive, but now he knew that they had followed him to the grave.

“I’ll do what I can, though I fear it will not be much,” he said, thinking of all the times he had tried to talk to Thorin when he was suffering from the gold sickness, and all the times he had failed. 

“That would be much appreciated laddie,” Balin said gratefully, and Bilbo forced himself to send a weak smile Balin’s way. 

It took him another good hour before he had steeled himself enough to go out and talk to Thorin, but by then it was too late. A horn blew in the distance, making his blood run cold. Orcs. 

“Get off your ponies! I know what to do!” Bilbo screamed, dismounting, and strapping as much as he could carry to his body. The dwarves followed suit, confusion written all over their faces. 

“What are we doing? We need to fight, not flee!” Dwalin called out. 

“Just trust me!” he replied, running in the direction that he came. Each dwarf followed suit, Thorin last. The sound of the Orcs got closer and closer, until the Dwarves reached a clearing. Bilbo sprinted on and…

“BILBO!” Thorin yelled. He had slipped out of sight, down a rabbit hole. A rabbit hole?

“Come on, don’t dawdle,” Bilbo’s voice came from down the hole, and each one of the dwarves (plus a wizard) sprinted towards it as fast as their legs could carry them, Bombur easily outrunning them all, before they all slipped down and found themselves hidden away in a troll cave. 

There was weapons and gold galore down here, as Bilbo already knew, considering he was down on his hands and knees, rummaging around for Orcist, Glamdring or Sting, whichever he could find first. 

“Gandalf, catch!” he shouted, and threw Glamdring towards him. Luckily enough for him, Gandalf caught it before it could hit anyone, which was a danger he realised after the sword had left his hand, but that didn’t matter now. 

He found Orcist next, and handed it over to Thorin, before rummaging around a bit more and coming up with Sting. It felt right to have the sword neatly strapped to his side, and made him feel safer than he had these past few weeks with only a tiny kitchen knife to defend himself with. 

“Please, please, please,” he muttered, wondering if the next part of this moment would happen like before.

“Please what Master Baggins?” Thorin asked, drawing Orcist and pointing it towards the entrance. Suddenly in the distance, there was the sound of galloping.

“You’re going to hate this next part, truly. You’d make it a lot better for yourself though if you stopped thinking that all elves were Thranduil,” Bilbo stated, and oh, Thorin knew it was coming but he didn’t think it would be this soon. They were all going off to Rivendell, and that galloping in the distance was the elves who had come to save them. 

“Mahal help me,” Thorin said under his breath as he ran out of the cave, Orcist at the ready. The rest of the company followed suit, crying what was supposed to be fierce dwarven battle cries, to find the orcs lying dead on the grassy floor and a set of triumphant looking elves sitting on top of horses, bows strung and pointing at the company. 

“Excuse me,” spoke up one elf, “But is any one of you named Master Baggins?” 

“That would be me?” Bilbo said, coming to the front of the group. “Who needs to know?” 

“The Lady Galadriel has dreamed of your arrival. You and your company have been summoned to sit before the White Council to tell your story,” the elf recited. 

“And what if we refuse?” Thorin said angrily, advancing towards the elf. 

“Hush, Thorin. We will not refuse,” he said, looking pointedly at Thorin, “if you can offer us lodgings and food for a few nights.”

“That I can do. Hop on!”

***

It was quite literally the best moment of Bilbo’s lives to see Thorin on a horse, an elf seated behind him. The look of hatred on his face was enough to make the ride go even more quickly than before. The only person in the company besides himself that actually looked comfortable with this situation however, was Kili and that was only probably because of Tauriel’s influence. 

Tauriel. He hadn’t even thought about her existence until now, wondering more about what was going on in the present than in the future. She would still be Captain of the Guard at this point, not worrying about meddlesome dwarves and a hobbit. 

She would still be confused over Legolas’ affections for her, whether it was just friendship or something more, if she returned the feelings or not, and what her life really meant. 

They were good friends before, before this and before she sailed. She had stayed in Dale for many moons under the protection of King Bard and his descendants, after which she travelled to Bag End before her eventual sail to Valinor. It was hard without Kili, but she thought that maybe it was what he would have wanted for her, to see the world before it was too late.

And, on another horse, Tauriel was the only thing Kili could think about. Surrounded by elves once again, he was wondering what she had done when he was gone, how she had coped, who she became. Her life for the most part was shaped by things other than him, so what impact did he have on her life?

He loved her unconditionally, as he was a hundred percent sure that she was his One. But did she love him back, or only care for him as friends? Did elves have Ones like dwarves did? If she didn’t love him, could she have grown too, in time?

There were so many questions on his mind, about whether he did the right thing by her or not, and Rivendell would just be a constant reminder of her, about how beautiful she was and the impact she made on the last days of his life. 

The stone felt heavy in his pocket, the promise stone he had given away to her, to promise that she would get out of this alive. She may have kept her end of the bargain, but he didn’t. His dead body, lying sealed in stone was a constant reminder of that. 

He remembers sailing away from her, on a boat surrounded by the dwarves who stayed behind to look after him. He remembers how beautiful she looked, bathed in a pale white light and standing over him, trying and succeeding in bringing him back from the brink of death. 

He remembers the sword sliding cleanly in and out of his stomach, something that would haunt him for the rest of his days. He remembers trying to say her name one last time, trying to confirm to her that he loved her, but no words would come out of his mouth. 

He doesn’t remember anything after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really short chapter sorry
> 
> follow me on tumblr: belllxrke.tumblr.com


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they have dinner and the white council debates things

seven

Thorin had been grumbling about this decision non-stop for the past few hours, sitting atop his horse, about why they had to accept the help of the elves. Every elf here knew about his dislike for elves, but to all of their credit, they did not offer any word of insult against him.

The Company and the elves were riding along a steep mountain ledge, walking slowly around a very twisted road. They were all hungry and dirty, in need of a good night’s sleep and something better than a river to bathe in. The soundtrack of the journey was grumbling, muttering and groaning, and even Bilbo wouldn’t be above taking someone’s head off for a few minutes of peace and quiet.

And then they turned the corner, and even Thorin was quiet for once, stunned into silence by the beauty of it all.

Rivendell was as beautiful as when Bilbo had left it so many years ago. The vines still twisted around the marble buildings, forming the most intricate patterns, and there was still the sword, broken in pieces, that lay in the marble woman’s arms.

He could hear faintly the galloping of horses, and he wondered what Lord Elrond would know and what he would remember, if anything. The Lady Galadriel, well, he had more faith in her to remember his previous life, because of that gift of foresight Frodo had told him about.

“Mithrandir.” An elf came striding down the steps, his hand extended in good faith.

“Ah Lindir,” Gandalf said, and they muttered together in such rapid Elvish that Bilbo couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Gandalf could sense Thorin’s discomfort here, especially because they were speaking in Sindarin, and switched to Common.

“I must speak with Lord Elrond,” Gandalf said politely.

“My Lord Elrond is not here,” Lindir replied, glancing over the dwarves heads.

“Not here? Where is he?”

A horn blew, and the galloping got faster, until a pack of horses came rushing into the courtyard. The dwarves bustled together, forcing Bilbo into the middle of the pack. They all drew their weapons, preparing for some sort of battle, but Bilbo knew that Elrond would not fight them, not now.

“Gandalf,” Lord Elrond said, surprise evident in his voice, as he dismounted his horse and went over to hug Gandalf.

“Lord Elrond,” Gandalf said, something close to a smile dancing over his lips. He returned the short hug cordially, and then muttered something to Lord Elrond in Sindarin.

Lord Elrond replied, and they had a full conversation in something that Bilbo could only catch words out of. Something about hunting Orcs that had come up from the South and a Hidden Pass.

“Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something, or someone, has drawn them here,” Elrond concluded, which made Bilbo’s chest puff up a bit in pride. Good to see his elvish skills weren’t completely gone.

“That may well have been us,” Gandalf admitted, chuckling. Elrond looked like he was about to smile. Thorin made a move from his position in the middle to the front of the pack, sensing that Lord Elrond was about to greet him.

“Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain,” Elrond said cordially, making Thorin scowl.

“I do not believe we have met,” he said gruffly.

“You have your grandfathers bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain.” Elrond was intending to be polite, but Thorin’s deep dislike of elves saw an opportunity, and seized it. Bilbo wanted to hit him over the head with a hammer.

“Indeed. He made no mention of you.” And there it was, Thorin, being as rude as ever to an elf-friend who wanted nothing more than to offer him food and lodgings.

“Now, now, Master Oakenshield, there is no need to be rude. Greetings, Lord Elrond, my name is Bilbo Bag…” Bilbo began, but he was cut off by Lord Elrond.

“Bilbo Baggins, yes. I have heard about your peculiar tale from the Lady Galadriel,” he said kindly in Sindarin, gazing down at Bilbo. “Perhaps we shall discuss it over dinner?”

“What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?” Gloin roared, not understanding the kind sentiment Lord Elrond was trying to convey.

“No, Master Gloin, he’s offering you food,” Gandalf translated, as a blush of embarrassment spread across Gloin’s cheeks. The dwarves all turned in so that they were in some form of circle and muttered to themselves in Khuzdul, before Gloin spoke again.

“Oh, well, in that case, lead on.”

***

Dinner was not as raucous as the last time, but it was definitely still a sight to behold. Kili was relieved this time that he didn’t have to make the same mistake with the elves, because even though he was gender blind, he had had more practise this time around.

Bilbo found himself at the head of the table, making pleasant conversation with Lord Elrond, and listening to the sea of complaints that seemed to be flooding out of the dwarves.

“Try it, just a mouthful,” Dori tried to insist, holding a spinach leaf up to Ori’s mouth.

“I don’t like green food,” Ori replied bitterly.

“Where’s the meat?” Dwalin said, lifting up some leaves from a bowl. Oin on the other side of him, was carefully examining a small white flower on the edge of his fork.

“Do they have any chips?” Ori questioned, looking down the table to see absolutely nothing but green food. Every single dwarf at the table bar Bombur was fuming, while on the opposite end, Bilbo, Bombur, Lord Elrond and Gandalf were trying to contain their laughter.

Lord Elrond, probably having years of experience in this sort of thing, was doing the best job of it, as he was sitting calmly at the head of the table, the only giveaway that he found something amusing was the twitch of his lips every time he heard a dwarf complain.

Gandalf, on the other hand, was terrible. He was biting his lip and clenching his fists, all in a vain attempt not to give away the fact that he was laughing. Luckily for him, all of the dwarves were too busy complaining to notice.

“When should we tell them?” Bombur whispered at Bilbo.

“Let them figure it out for themselves. Its fun watching them squirm,” he replied, giggling. Thorin glared at them both from the other end of the table, almost like he had heard them, but dropped his glare almost a second later.

It took the dwarves another fifteen minutes to finally ask Bombur what was going on, all the while Bilbo munched calmly on a stick of celery.

“Did you really think I would get here and not go straight down to the kitchens?” Bombur said incredulously, watching as a group of elves started bringing out some real food, lamb and pork, potatoes and carrots, all of the foods that would make up a true dwarven meal. All of the dwarves cheered at this development, making Bilbo smile.

He remembered how much they missed this on the road, so it wouldn’t do to have them miss it when there was an opportunity for them to have some.

For the first time in a long time, each and every dwarf was smiling widely, including Thorin, who when Bilbo made eye contact with him, tilted his head in acknowledgment.

That sly dwarf. He knew all along. But then again, what else was Bilbo expecting? Thorin always knew everything that was going on with his company, from Kili flirting with the elf in Mirkwood, to Bilbo’s deep dislike of the Sackville-Baggins’s. Thorin was observant like that, always noting what was going on in case he could use that information later.

It was later, when Lord Elrond, Thorin, Gandalf, Balin and Bilbo were gathered together in the courtyard where the sword was held, where Thorin’s observations would later be used. He was refusing to give the map up to Lord Elrond, instead holding it firmly in his hand and waiting for someone to respond to it. He could only judge whether Lord Elrond was worthy to see this map using time and patience.

“Your pride will be your downfall,” Gandalf growled at Thorin. If only he knew how true that prediction would come. “You stand before one of the few in Middle Earth who can read this map. Show it to Lord Elrond.”

“Thorin, no,” Balin whispered, but Thorin had already handed it over. This time, he would forsake those observations, but only for the time being, because he needed that map read.

“Erebor,” Elrond said with surprise in his voice, his eyes lighting up.  He looked up at Thorin, but Thorin was unyielding, giving no information away with his face. “What is your interest in this map?”

“It’s mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artefact sometimes contains hidden texts. You still read ancient Dwarvish, do you not?” Gandalf broke in, trying to make sure Thorin didn’t do anything stupid. Privately, Bilbo thought that he was right to make sure of that, because Thorin was known to act rashly around elves.

Elrond held the map up to the light of the moon, examining it closely. He said something in Elvish, and Bilbo smiled.

“Moon runes!” Gandalf said excitedly, “Of course. An easy thing to miss.” He directed the last part at Bilbo, almost like he was scolding him for not remembering about them. Bilbo just rolled his eyes.

“In this case it is true, for moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written.” Elrond said diplomatically, not taking his eyes off of the map.

“More importantly, can you read them?” Thorin said impatiently, and Bilbo could see his patience starting to wear thin.

“I do not know yet, but I can find out. Follow me please,” Elrond said, turning and walking down the path, leaving the rest of them to follow out. Eventually, they found themselves in a clearing surrounded by two gushing waterfalls, and Bilbo smiled.

Elrond walked up to the crystal table and placed the map down flat, watching and waiting for the moon runes to show themselves.

“These runes were written on a mid-summers eve, by the light of a crescent moon nearly 200 years ago. It seems you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you Thorin Oakenshield, for the same moon shines upon us tonight.” Elrond said, smiling to himself. Fate may have been with him, but all the same, he did not require it in this instance.

“Stand by the grey stone when the thrust knocks, and-” Elrond begun, cut off only when Bilbo finished the reading for him.

“The setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the key-hole.” Bilbo finished.

“You already knew it Master Baggins, before you even stepped foot in Rivendell. Perhaps it is time to hear your curious tale now?” Elrond said. “The Lady Galadriel most definitely would like to hear it. Master Oakenshield, would you like to join us?”

Thorin had no grounds on which to decline, for that could anger any member of the White Council, and so he hesitantly accepted, following out back to the courtyard. Balin left them to go and find the rest of the Company, most likely to share the news about what the moon runes said.

So here he found himself, standing in the doorway awkwardly in front of the most powerful group of individuals in the entirety of Middle Earth, about to hear for a second time how he failed, failed his people, failed his company and failed his nephews. How most importantly, he failed Bilbo Baggins.

The Lady Galadriel was standing regally at the edge, and she turned slowly to face them.

“Lady Galadriel,” Gandalf said softly, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Mithrandir,” she replied, the faintest hint of a smile flicking over her face. “It has been a long time.”

“Age may have changed me, but not so the Lady of Lorien.,” he complimented, and Bilbo could see something there, something that might have been true in years past.

“I had no idea Lord Elrond had sent for you,” Gandalf queried.

“He didn’t. I did.” Saruman came striding out from around the corner, and Bilbo’s skin ran cold, goose-bumps spreading all over him. He knew what Saruman had done, how he had sided with Sauron, but something told him that he should give Saruman the benefit of the doubt, because at this point in time, he had not yet chosen that path.

“Saruman,” Gandalf said, the faintest hint of frost decorating his voice.

“You’ve been busy of late, my friend. Tell me Gandalf, did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?” On the outside, Saruman seemed to be being polite towards Gandalf, but his tone was ice cold, like he didn’t want any of Gandalf’s plans to be carried out.

“Unnoticed? No, I’m simply doing what I feel to be right,” Gandalf tried to reason, but Saruman looked unconvinced.

“The dragon has long been on your mind,” Galadriel said ethereally, looking at Gandalf.

“It is true, milady. Smaug owes allegiance to no-one, and if he should side with the enemy, a dragon could be used to terrible effect,” Gandalf said, trying to convince them about Sauron, but to no avail.

“What enemy? Gandalf, the enemy is defeated. Sauron has been defeated, and he can never regain his full strength. Always you must meddle, looking for trouble where none exists,” Saruman interjected, making Bilbo think that maybe his heart was already with Sauron, instead of here with the White Council.

“Actually, there is trouble and Sauron has not been defeated,” Bilbo spoke up, attracting strange looks from the rest of the council, except for Galadriel, who continued to stare out over the cliff.

“What?” Elrond said, surprise in his voice.

“In a cave beneath the lair of the Goblin King, there is a creature named Gollum. In his possession currently is a ring, the One Ring,” Bilbo said, remembering the perils he went through when he had that Ring, and the perils that Frodo went through.

“And how do you know this?” Saruman said curiously, his brain already whirring to try to think of ways to disprove what Bilbo is about to say.

“Because I will come to bear this ring, and so will my nephew, in an attempt to destroy it in Mount Doom, like it should have been many years ago. This ring will tempt and trick, and will bring about the rise of Sauron again. We are no longer at peace, Lord Elrond, for Sauron is rising again,” Bilbo revealed.

“And how can we be sure that he is telling the truth?” Saruman interjected.

“I have looked into his soul, and I see no lie present. He does not wish any ill will upon us, and so there is no reason for him to lie to us about something as serious as this,” Galadriel said gently, looking fondly at Bilbo.

“So then Gandalf, you were right,” Elrond said diplomatically.

“Just a feeling,” he replied modestly, for the first time in his entire existence. Bilbo looked like he was about to cry.

“So then, Master Baggins, what can you tell me about the future?” Saruman asked politely.

“What do you already know?” Bilbo asked, and Elrond replied, prompting a conversation between Saruman, Gandalf and him.

“Your soul is open to me. You have suffered many hardships, young Hobbit. You carried that ring for much too long,” Galadriel said psychically to Bilbo.

“That ring was the cause of all my problems, but it played an integral part in reclaiming the mountain. Without it, I fear I would not be a very good Burglar. After the Mountain was reclaimed, I hid it away for seventy years, until it was passed to my nephew Frodo, who carried it to Mt Doom, along with three other hobbits, Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, Aragorn and Boromir, two men, Legolas Greenleaf, an elf, and the dwarf Gimli, son of Gloin. The Fellowship of the Ring, they were called,” Bilbo interjected into their conversation.

“And Sauron?” Saruman queried, the faintest twinge of panic in voice. Goosebumps spread up and down Bilbo’s arms like wildfire. Maybe Saruman had already turned to Sauron.

“Was defeated, as evil should be. As evil always is in these cases,” Bilbo said reflectively, watching Saruman intently to see what his reaction would be. To his credit however, he gave nothing away.                                                                                                                       

“What about Smaug?” Elrond asked.

“He is shot down over Laketown by a man named Bard, a descendent of Girion. But it is what happens after that I would much like to prevent,” Bilbo said, worry seeping into his voice.

“And what is that exactly?” Gandalf asked.

“Thorin Oakenshield fell prisoner to the gold sickness, and started a war with elves and men in order to keep every penny hidden away in his treasury,” Bilbo said sadly, looking at Thorin.

It was then that Thorin moved from his position in the doorway, shifting when Galadriel began to talk to him. “Your soul has been through much already, things that you do not remember. You are a hero, Master Oakenshield, and you should be sure to remember that.”

“But…” Thorin tried to interject, but Galadriel continued nonetheless.

“Remember all you have sacrificed for your people, for your family. Remember what the Arkenstone does Master Oakenshield. Remember that when you find it,” she said wisely.

“The Arkenstone may be precious, but it is also cursed beyond measure. It is the reason for the dragon sickness, and the reason for the war to come,” Bilbo recalled.

“So what do you propose that we do?” Elrond asked.

“The quest must continue as planned,” Thorin interjected, the worry for his homeland seeping in.

“And it shall, just that Arkenstone must never be allowed to be in Thorin’s possession, for it may be the downfall of us all.” Gandalf said decisively, looking at Thorin, and he nodded gravely, knowing he was right. He must not be allowed to possess the Arkenstone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that it has taken me ages to post this chapter. ive been super busy with school and things :)
> 
> ive started holidays so updates should hopefully be more frequent!
> 
> follow me on tumblr: belllxrke.tumblr.com


	8. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they leave rivendell, step into mirkwood and tauriel gets some screentime at last

eight

Bilbo was standing in the courtyard of Rivendell, about to say his goodbyes to Lord Elrond, Galadriel and Saruman, debating in his mind whether it would be the right thing to do to hand Saruman over to Lord Elrond and tell them that he was the one that betrayed them to Sauron.

He did not know yet whether Saruman had made that decision, whether he had decided that Sauron would be the better choice in leader, and he desperately wanted to give Saruman a second chance for an act he hadn’t even committed yet but something in his gut was telling him _no, give him up,_ _prevent the future from ever happening by just telling them._

“Goodbye Lord Elrond,” he said politely, shaking Lord Elrond’s hand.

“Goodbye Master Baggins,” he smiled at Bilbo, who with each passing second, could feel his resolve breaking. He had to tell Lord Elrond.

“Before I go, Lord Elrond, do you mind if we have a moment alone. It will just take a second, I swear,” he said as politely as he could muster. Elrond looked confused.

“Of course Master Baggins. What do you need?” Elrond took him to a small corner of the courtyard and stood in front of him, clearly interested in what he had to say.

“See, there was something that I forgot to mention last night, and it has been weighing quite heavily on my mind,” Bilbo said, his heart still debating whether he should tell Lord Elrond this or not. But he was too late to back out now, so he had to continue.

“What is it?” Elrond asked.

“I told you that someone betrayed you to Sauron, yes?” Bilbo started.

“And?”

“Well, that someone is Saruman, but I don’t know where his allegiances lie at this point in time, so I didn’t want to accuse him of something he hadn’t done. But I couldn’t leave without telling you, because right now, I think you would probably want to know. I just hope that my tale of the future has convinced him to stay aligned with us.” There, it was out in the open now, and he couldn’t take it back.

“I fear you are wrong, Master Baggins, for he could use the information to go to Sauron and rewrite the future. You were right to come to me, and I shall deal with Saruman myself.” Elrond walked off, and Bilbo’s skin ran cold, for something in his gut told him that Saruman would use that information for evil purposes, just as he had done the first few times.

Elrond came rushing back into the courtyard, his eyes wild with panic.

“He’s gone.”

***

When Bilbo walked away from Rivendell, he couldn’t shake the feeling of panic that had settled over him once he had found out that Saruman had fled. He was too late, even now, to turn him away from that life, the one that would eventually get him killed.

But that decision was not one that was in any way his fault, as Lord Elrond and Gandalf had drilled into his head over and over again, but that did nothing to make him feel any better. And this wasn’t about Saruman anymore. This was about the safety of his people.

Bilbo didn’t know whether he was glad to see the back of it or not, because it brought safety with it, but they needed to get to the mountain in time for Durin’s Day or else all hope would be lost.

Thorin, on the other hand, could not be gladder to see the back of that place. Yes, the beds were softer than heaven, and yes there was decent food when Bombur managed to get into the kitchen, but his strong dislike of the elven race was more than enough motivation to hustle his company out of Rivendell and onto Mirkwood, the last elven settlement they would have to face.

But Mirkwood brought about a whole host of new problems, so many that he had decided to make a list that consisted of the three major problems.

This list consisted of:

  1.        Thranduil
  2.        Thranduil
  3.        Thranduil



Thranduil was all of the problems in that forest, for he didn’t care how he presented himself to others. All he cared about was what they had that he desired, which was a trait Thorin despised. He had little care for his people, assigning roles that Thorin had deemed to be ones that a king should undertake away to other people in his council, instead of assigning them jobs that more fit that role.

And Thranduil, for all of his years and wisdom, was ignorant at times, or at least he chose to be ignorant, to ignore the fact that the forest in his kingdom was dying, and could well bring his people down with it. Everything he had done as long as Thorin had been alive, he had either done to spite someone else or to gain something he wanted, not for his people as he would claim.

He did not turn his back on the dwarves to save his people from dragon-fire, no, because if he had done that, he would have come to their aid when they asked for it again, this time only for food and supplies for their journey to the Blue Mountains.

Thranduil, in Thorin’s eyes, did not deserve to be king, not with these materialistic values in his head. He needed to start to see that he never came first. His people were the ones that needed to come first. Always.

“Are we riding to Mirkwood, uncle?” Kili had asked just a few moments earlier.

“As much as I would like to avoid Thranduil, we have no choice, for it is the shortest route to the Mountain,” Thorin had told him in reply. Kili had to stifle a grin. He would get to see Tauriel again.

Bilbo, on the other hand, was also dreading the trip to the Mirkwood Forest, because he didn’t know if he could stand being in that forest any longer, because he could feel that it was dying. Hobbit’s were naturally in tune with the earth around them, a trait which made them extremely good gardeners, but something that might put him in some serious danger.

The moment he had stepped over the Mirkwood border the last time around, he had felt lightheaded, of a sort, and immediately wanted to go back. It was almost like the death around him had become a part of him, and that was something that he didn’t want to repeat ever again.

“Thorin?” Bilbo said cautiously.

“Yes Master Burglar?” Thorin spun around to face Bilbo, who smiled weakly at him.

“I wanted to voice some concerns I had with the Mirkwood Forest,” Bilbo voiced.

“Hm?”

“See, the last time we were there, everyone found themselves getting awful sick, and I was thinking that maybe we should try to move a lot quicker through it. The Mirkwood is getting ver sick, and Hobbits are naturally in tune to the plants around them, as I think dwarves are with stone, and so it is hard for me to be in the Mirkwood without getting very sick, you understand me?” Bilbo said quietly, trying to give the decision to Thorin whether to tell the other dwarves or not.

“We will try to move as fast as we can, Master Burglar,” Thorin said kindly, making Bilbo’s heart go all fluttery, which was an action much too uncivilised for a gentle-hobbit like himself.

“Thank-you Thorin. That is much appreciated.” Bilbo smiled weakly at him before sinking back into the crowd of dwarves, merging seamlessly into their conversation.

Bilbo, to his surprise, seemed to fit in more with this rag tag group of dwarves that stood before him than he had seen him interact with other hobbits. He had, let’s say, observed Bilbo in the days before meeting him, when all Gandalf had told him about the companies burglar was a name. It would not do for a leader to know nothing about the members of his company.

But before that, when he was observing Bilbo Baggins in the marketplace and in his garden, he acted more like how Thorin would expect, compared to the day that he was formally introduced.

But he could attribute that change to the day that Bilbo Baggins’s soul was transported from the future and into the past, when he remembered about the first time he had been on this quest, which was a strange thing to think about, even now.

He tuned into the conversation behind him, consisting of Fili, Kili and Ori, a.k.a. the three troublemakers, although Ori just sat there and looked innocent while Fili and Kili did the dirty work.

“So, Kili, did we find our One’s on the quest?” Fili asked curiously.

“Come on, one of us had to. It’s statistically likely,” Ori said, and Kili wanted to laugh and say _yes, yes you found your One’s in each other_. But he stopped himself, for they would need to figure that out for themselves.

“Um…” he muttered, not knowing how to bring up Tauriel to them in a way that would not alert them to the fact that she is an elf while at the same time tell them that she did save their lives on more than one occasion.

“Who was it?” Fili’s eyes brightened, knowing that his brother’s avoidance of the question could only mean that there was an answer. A positive answer.

“Me?” Kili replied, almost as if it was a question. “But I’m not going to tell you who, or when, or where.”

“Seriously. I think you’re lying. I think it’s me, and you’re lying because you’re jealous,” Fili said cockily, puffing out his chest slightly. Kili burst into laughter.

“It was definitely me, I can assure you. And she was beautiful, oh so beautiful, with the reddest hair I have ever seen, redder than Gloin’s,” Kili described, his mind wandering.

“I still think that you’re lying,” Fili said defiantly, and Kili wanted to laugh in his face and tell him all about Tauriel, but he couldn’t tell who was listening in. He glanced back at Thorin, who immediately averted his eyes, causing Kili to breathe a sigh of relief.

“If you wait a few weeks, I think you might just meet her,” Kili said cryptically, leaving Fili and Ori scrambling for answers that they weren’t going to get.

“Please just tell us Kili,” Ori begged, but Kili shook his head defiantly.

“Here, I’ll make you a deal. If we have not come across her by the time we leave the Mirkwood, I will tell you her name, but only if your stop bugging me about it. Deal?” Kili bargained.

“Deal.” Fili and Ori chorused in sync. Fili knew that that was going to be the best deal that he was going to get out of Kili. But it was confusing too, because Kili would have to tell him after Mirkwood, because they weren’t going to meet his One there, unless the One was an elf, and that was highly unlikely.

Thorin would have skinned him alive, nephew or not, if his One was an elf.

But Fili and Ori turned back to each other and began discussing potential suspects for Kili’s One, throwing in the elf theory once or twice even though it had no real ground to stand on, and throwing out names of girls that they knew, wondering who they could possibly meet from here to the end of the Mirkwood that would be Kili’s One.

And, to their dismay, the more they thought about it, the more that the elf theory could be a possibility. Kili wouldn’t have made that bargain with them if they weren’t going to meet his one before the end of the Mirkwood, and it was highly unlikely they would come across a dwarf in these parts, or a man for that matter, so all that was left was an elf.

God, Kili would be in deep trouble with Thorin if that turned out to be true.

***

And here they all stood, Bilbo’s heart going a mile a minute. The Mirkwood looked so daunting from here, so dark and gloomy, that all of them were having second thoughts about walking in, even though they all knew deep down inside that they had no option.

“Are you okay Master Baggins?” Thorin asked, coming up to stand next to him.

“I’m fine,” he dismissed, which did not convince Thorin at all.

“You must make sure to tell me if you start to feel ill at any point Master Baggins. I don’t want to jeopardize your health for something as silly as walking a few extra metres in the day,” Thorin said gruffly, making Bilbo smile

“Master Oakenshield, we both know that you are lying, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same,” Bilbo said with a smile, which, for some unknown reason, made Thorin’s stomach twist into knots. He dismissed the feeling though, attributing it to nerves, because he had never really experienced a feeling that was in any way similar to that.

“Shall we be off then? No need delaying it any longer,” Balin asked wisely from the back. Thorin nodded.

“If no-one else has any complaints they wish to raise with me, then I think we shall be off,” he said with as much excitement as he could muster, which really wasn’t very much, and took the first step into Mirkwood, making sure to stay directly on the path so that Thranduil could not accuse him of trespassing.

The moment he did, however, he began to feel lightheaded, and immediately wanted to take a break, his muscles aching like he had been walking for a few days straight, not a few hours.

“Master Baggins was right,” he croaked out. “This forest makes you feel very tired.”

As the rest of the company stepped into the forest, he could see that they were all beginning to feel the forest’s effects, something he knew would take a toll on them in days to come. All of the company, except Kili, who now seemed to be walking with a spring in his step. It was almost like he was immune to the forest, which most definitely was a good thing.

For one thing, the Company began to dump a lot of their heavier items on him, which he took without complaint, which was something most definitely unlike him. Thorin also put him in the front of the group, so that he could be on the lookout for elven spies or spiders.

He seemed to be so happy that he was here, an emotion that Thorin vaguely wanted to stamp out of him, but mostly baffled him. What dwarf would be happy to be in their enemy territory?

Fili, on the other hand, thought that maybe the elf for a One theory was holding a lot more ground than the rest of them. Why else was he immune to the forest’s charms? And why would he have that spring in his step, if it wasn’t about an elven One?

Thorin was going to flay him alive when he found out. He almost pitied his brother, before pushing that thought out of his mind and moving to go and find Ori to tell him what he thought. Strange, how much time he has been spending with Ori lately, but he was quickly becoming his best friend, after Kili of course. And, he was the only one who didn’t ridicule his theories like the rest of the Company would. But that was no matter now, for he had information that he just had to share.

On the other side of the forest, Tauriel had perked up immediately, precisely the moment that Kili had crossed the borderline.

“What is it Tauriel,” Legolas asked, concern flooding his voice. She wanted to laugh at that, for there was no need for concern, not now.

“They’ve just crossed the border,” she whispered excitedly, a grin stretching over her face.

“By them, do you mean Thorin Oakenshield’s Company?” Legolas queried, his mind racing a mile a minute as he began to put the pieces together.

“Who else would I mean?” she said like it was obvious, rolling her eyes at him.

“Do you want to go out and meet them?” He asked her, to her surprise.

“Aren’t you going to your father?” Her voice was small now, and his mind spun. He could go to his father, turn the dwarves in, but he could stay with Tauriel instead, and make sure that the dwarves got their homeland back. From what she had told him, he had gone to his father the first time, and things hadn’t exactly worked out his way. Maybe it was time to try something different.

“What do you think, silly?” he said cockily. “I’m coming with you!”

Tauriel brightened instantly. “We have a lot of ground to cover if we want to get there and back by nightfall,” she stated.

 “Well, we better get a move on then,” he replied, picking up his bow. “Come on.”

Tauriel complied, following him down the tree tops and onto the forest floor, watching as he broke into a sprint before copying only a few seconds later. She couldn’t keep the grin off of her face, no matter how many times she tried to wipe it away.

She was going to see her beloved again.

She was going to see Kili again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i've made this my nano story, after going to a three day writing camp and chipping away at a huge portion of this :)
> 
> hope you enjoy :)
> 
> follow me on tumblr : belllxrke.tumblr.com
> 
> p.s for the purposes of this story, the goblin caves are after the Mirkwood Forest, so they haven't passed them yet
> 
> p.p.s beorn isn't in the chapter because i tried writing him and i wasn't happy with him so i axed him :( sorry


	9. nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> internal monologue about thranduil from leggy & tauriel saves the company
> 
> p.s. kili is about to be skewered on the end of orcist, courtesy of one extremely mad thorin oakenshield

nine

The forest was dark now, and getting darker with every step Bilbo took, forcing him deeper into the Mirkwood Forest. The trees were rustling, and he had the sense that someone or something was following them. 

He looked up at just the right moment to notice the flash of red that darted across the tree tops, quickly followed by a flash of blonde. The elves knew they were here. He reached into his pocket, searching around for his ring, realising that it wasn’t there. He was so used to it being there, to the dark voice being in the back of his head, that it was a strange experience for it to not be with him. 

He did not feel lighter without it though, probably because of the influence of the forest. There were dark forces at work here, and he did not know yet if the elves that he spotted were a part of that darkness or not. 

The voice in the back of his head worried him as well, because it was telling him to not tell Thorin about the elves, instead keep it to himself until they showed themselves. Was that because of the forest, or was that really his gut feeling?

But he followed the feeling anyway, because the ring wasn’t here, and it could not have had this much of a lasting impact on his soul to influence him here. 

So he continued to walk deeper into the forest, feeling the invisible force that surrounded him get heavier and heavier.

***

“Do you think he noticed us?” Tauriel whispered urgently to Legolas. 

“With that pathetic rustle, I doubt he would notice a spider, let alone you,” Legolas taunted, as Tauriel screwed up her face and poked her tongue out at him. 

“You’re so childish, Tauriel,” he laughed, as she pouted. 

“You’re so mean,” she said grumpily, trying her hardest to suppress the laugh that threatened to burst through. “Come on, keep up.”

She bounced away, dashing nimbly along the top of the trees, her eyes never leaving Kili. Legolas grinned and followed her, his heart racing a mile a minute. His father was always a looming figure over him, but this time, he wasn’t going to let him dictate his life. Anyway, Tauriel was a thousand times more important than his father, because she acknowledged his existence even when she didn’t want something from him. 

Below them, they could just make out the discussion that the dwarves were having, and it wasn’t good. The forest was affecting them all, everyone but Kili, which Tauriel and Legolas both knew was because of the soul bond that Tauriel and Kili shared. 

“What do you mean we can’t stop for lunch?” 

“When will we get there?”

“Why can’t I have an apple?”

“Don’t steal anything!” 

“Why not? It’s just Thranduil.” 

They were all bickering over the most pointless things, the bald dwarf and the Company’s leader getting into a full on fist-fight over a few apples from a tree next to them. That was what the forest did to people, made them angry and ready to do whatever it takes to acquire the smallest of things. Tauriel’s dwarf and the Hobbit were calmly talking though, which meant that they weren’t affected, strangely enough. 

There was this dark force, something that snuck into the crevices and the corners, just like orcs or goblins, and slowly and steadily took over your land. It corrupted you, increased your desire for material goods like gold and mithril. It had done that to the Mirkwood Forest, and it had done that to Erebor.\

His father had pushed away his mother, sent her away to the Summer Palace so that he could be alone with his treasures. She had gone willingly, because she couldn’t stand to see him do that. Legolas had stayed, although his heart yearned for his mother, because his father was grooming him to become the next in line for the throne, something his mother told him was his destiny. 

She was wrong. 

He wasn’t going to become the next King of Mirkwood, because his father would not give up his throne, not willingly. He would always be a prince, and everything his father had claimed to do for him was all really for himself. 

Thranduil was like that. 

And that was probably why he was doing this, because of everything his father had claimed he had done for him. This time, this would all be for his father. Everything he was doing now, he could claim he was doing for his father. 

Tauriel would tease him about this, all the bitterness that he held for his father. She was the only person in this entire kingdom that treated him like a normal person, instead of a high-ranking elf who they could use to get something that they wanted. That was all any elf wanted these days, and it was all because of the darkness in the forest. 

He looked back down at the dwarves, only to see Bilbo looking around frantically, reaching for the sword that he kept hanging from his waist. He looked up, only to be greeted with the familiar sight of spiders. He reached behind him for his bow, noticing that Tauriel had done the same.

“Should we?” he mouthed at her.

“Do we have a choice,” she responded, her eyes wide with fear. She glanced back down at the spiders, and prepared to jump.

***

Five minutes earlier, Kili had just so happened to glance up at the treetops, only to see two very familiar faces staring down at him. They didn’t seem to notice him though, so he glanced back down at the floor, trying to suppress the grin that was about to burst through his face. 

Tauriel was up there, five feet from him, just sitting there calmly, watching as Thorin and Dwalin bickered over a few apples from a tree that was sitting right next to the road. His One was up there. He wanted to glance over at Fili, to tell him everything in that one look, because he knew that he would understand instantly. Fili would then pass the message to Ori and they could work from there. 

But he didn’t, because he couldn’t give away their position without angering Thorin too much, and he ould not live with himself if his uncle did something to his One. 

So he did the next most stupid thing instead, using his hands as discreetly as he could to try to attract Tauriel’s attention up in the trees. To his disappointment, the only one that noticed was Bilbo.  

“What **are** you doing?” He hissed, walking over to Kili. 

“Can’t you see, up there, in the trees? It’s Tau-” Kili was cut off by Bilbo’s hand covering his mouth. 

“Ssh! If Thorin hears about elves nearby it’s all over for you!” Bilbo whispered frantically at him, trying to stop him from doing anything stupid, which really was a quest in itself when it came to Durin’s. 

Kili could see the logic in Bilbo’s statement, but he really wanted to talk to her, even for a moment, just to see if he remembered. But that thought was pushed out of his mind when he turned around, greeted by the beautiful face of a spider. 

_ Oh shit,  _ he thought to himself.

He grabbed his bow and fired an arrow, then two, then three, all hitting their marks perfectly but doing nothing to bring the spider down. He already knew that his arrows weren’t going to do anything, because you needed obsidian arrows to pierce the outer shell of a spider. Elves had those arrows. He would have to call Tauriel, who probably didn’t even remember him at this point. But it would be better to try, he reasoned. He had to save the company.

Meanwhile, Tauriel was preparing to jump, to fly out of the trees when she heard Kili call out, “THROW \ME A DAGGER, QUICK!” 

“If you think I’m giving you a weapon, dwarf, then you are right! Catch,” she shouted, throwing a knife cleanly so that it lodged itself deep in the skull of a spider. She could see Kili’s grin from here, as she fired arrow after arrow, combined with Legolas’ efforts, taking down spider after spider. 

The dwarves, however valiant their efforts, struggled to take down even one spider, the exception being their leader, who’s sword sliced through them like paper. Together, and she had to admit that they made a formidable team, they took down each and every spider that crossed their path. 

But when there seemed to be no more spiders coming, the nerves flooded into her body. Legolas would not go down with her, because no matter how much they disliked her, they would absolutely despise him for being the son of Thranduil. 

“Show yourself!” called one of the dwarves from down on the forest floor. Was she really about to do this, about to go and see Kili again. She had already deduced that he remembered at least some of the quest, or else he would not be able to remember what he had said when he met her for the first time. 

“My name is Tauriel, and I am an elf of the Woodland Realm. I do not wish you any harm, I swear,” she said as calmly as she could manage, sliding down gracefully from the treetops. She was greeted with a variety of weapons pointing in her face, from a spear to a slingshot. But she wasn’t surprised with this greeting, for they were dwarves after all, and dwarves were known to be hostile to strangers. 

But to her delight, neither Kili nor Bilbo were pointing anything in her face. They knew her, just as she knew them.

“She means you no harm Thorin,” Bilbo stated, walking in front of the weapons that the dwarves were pointing at her. 

“And how do you know that?” Thorin demanded. 

“Because I do believe she knows the future just as much as I do, if not more. She has saved your line’s lives more than once, and you owe her a blood debt, although you do not remember.” Bilbo was not above making up petty lies to help save Tauriel’s life, because Thorin did not owe Tauriel a blood debt, although there was the time where she saved Kili’s life using a handful of athelas and a whole lot of luck, but that was repaid in one form or another. 

“Kili?” Fili’s voice rang out through the now silent forest, and Bilbo knew he had figured it out. 

“Sorry big brother. Looks like your elf theory was right,” Kili replied, shrugging his shoulders. Fili and Ori both lowered their weapons instantaneously, to the surprise of the rest of the company. 

Fili stuck his hand out and declared, much to Kili’s shock horror, “Well, let me be the first to welcome you to the family.” 

Thorin slowly turned a deep shade of purple, his teeth clenched in fury. “What,” he almost spat, turning towards Kili. 

_ A never ending hole would be great right now,  _ Kili thought, _one that would swallow me up entirely._ Alas, that was never going to happen, and so now he was left to the full fury of Thorin Oakenshield, which was a fate that scared him more than it probably should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so so sorry for this extremely short thing...
> 
> so many people have been like omg i'm so excited for the kiliel reunion but i was trying to write it and it was all forced so im like ill post what i have so no-one shoots me :/
> 
> please still love me even though this chapter is so so short
> 
> expect a monster next chapter in apology :)
> 
> follow me on tumblr: belllxrke.tumblr.com


	10. ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thorin and company get kidnapped by thranduil
> 
> legolas and tauriel plan to break them out but things happen
> 
> turns out thorin can negotiate after all?!

ten

There was an uncomfortable silence that had settled over the Company as they walked through the forest, guided by Tauriel, Thorin right behind her. Kili, to his disappointment, was being forced to walk at the back of the group, just so no ‘funny’ business occurred.

On the other hand, Fili and Ori were standing right next to each other, so this whole separating thing was more about the elf and the dwarf than it was him and his One. He looked at them, and saw that they had stopped, were letting the group pass. They were coming over to him.

“So, Kili,” Fili begun, him and Ori coming around to both sides to flank him as he walked, “When were you going to mention that you had an elf for a One?”

“I think you’ll find that I already did,” he retorted, his eyes staring straight ahead to where they were going. He knew that they were about to pass the Mirkwood Palace, as he remembered this walk, and his stomach filled with nerves.

“You mentioned it, but you did not tell me. For that, I am hurt, brother,” Fili said sarcastically, placing his hand over his heart as a sign of mock hurt. Ori chuckled, but immediately sobered when he noticed the look on Kili’s face.

“It’ll be okay. Thorin will calm down, it’ll be fine. It takes time, Kili,” Ori reassured, and for some reason, it did make Kili feel the slightest bit better. Ori was going to make a great sibling, at least when Fili grew a pair and they had a decent conversation.

“I’m just worried, you know,” he said, hands beginning to shake. His stomach was all twisted in knots, and he just had this feeling that something bad was about to happen. He continued walking, unaware of Legolas who was trying desperately to get just one of the dwarf’s attention, but to no avail.

He could see all of the guards closing in on them, knifes at the ready. He had given the order to them to just knock them out, to not harm them in any way, but that was all that he could do now. He would tell the elves that Tauriel was guiding them, that he was making his way back to find an infantry to attack them, to capture the dwarves and bring them back to the Mirkwood Palace, all of which was a blatant lie.

The elves around them slowly closed in, and he wanted to scream, because he knew that they needed to get to the mountain before Durin’s Day, and every stop over, including this one, was just another hold up. His father should not be doing this, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. When his father had decided something, there was nothing that could be done to change it.

It was a few swift movements, and not one of the dwarves noticed that anything was happening until it was too late, dwarf after dwarf going swiftly down.

One reckless elf was going to take down Tauriel too, but Legolas stopped him with a simple command, promising to reprimand him later, a promise on which he would never follow through.

“Oh Eru,” Tauriel said when she reached Legolas’ perch on top of the canopy, her stomach filled with nerves.

“There was nothing else that we could have done Tauriel, only break them out when we can. They will be taken to the throne room, questioned by my father, as per usual, but we could probably get them out after that,” Legolas observed, already forming plans in his mind.

“The first step though is to get Bilbo out. He managed to sneak off in the darkness and break the dwarves out by drugging the guards and stealing the keys off of their waists. I have to give it to him, he is a resourceful hobbit,” she planned, only half speaking to him. Her mind was whirring a mile a minute, half thought out plans running through her head.

“We need to think this out though. We can’t just rush in and steal them away, because that will go badly for all of us,” Legolas said, trying to imply to Tauriel that she couldn’t act reckless like she usually did, because he probably wouldn’t be able to bail her out. Not this time.

“But we can’t just stand by and do nothing!” she hissed impatiently.

“And I’m not saying that we do that. I’m just saying that we think this through carefully, okay?” Legolas said calmingly. He knew that Tauriel was impatient by nature, but the dwarf made her so much more impatient, because someone she loved was involved, and that made it all the more personal.

“Fine. Where do we go now?” Tauriel huffed, crossing her arms.

“We have a hobbit to go rescue,” Legolas said excitedly, a grin spreading over his face.  

***

Kili opened his eyes groggily, trying to move his hands to wipe his eyes, instead finding his hands tied to a pole behind him. The scene in front of him slowly came into focus, and the majestic throne room of the Mirkwood Palace was there, in the place of the blurry scene he had seen moments ago.

What was going on?

All around him were the other dwarves, tied to individual poles. But Bilbo, strangely enough, was missing from the group. His mind started to put together the pieces, and the only conclusion he could draw was that Tauriel had rescued him and taken him to somewhere safe, somewhere where he could be of use instead of in this throne room.

Thranduil was not here yet, the only other people he could see were the two elf guards that were stationed on the main door. Suddenly, the doors flung open with a loud bang, and two elves walked through. Kili shut his eyes, prepared for Thranduil’s anger.

“Leave us,” said one of the elves, and the guards immediately obeyed, walking out of the room and most likely stationing themselves on the other side of the door. Kili felt himself caving, and opened one eye to take a peak.

His heart began to soar. Tauriel and Legolas, the son of the king, were standing in front of him. “Kili. Kili,” Tauriel hissed at him, and he opened his eyes fully to see her crouching in front of him.

“Amralime,” he said softly, looking at her. She grinned at him.

“We don’t have much time,” Legolas hissed at them from his position guarding the door. Kili looked around and saw some of the other dwarves were coming to their senses, their eyes opening and widening when they saw the two elves that were standing in the room.

“Bilbo?” Kili asked, the word almost slurring together.

“We have Bilbo somewhere safe, don’t you worry about him. Legolas and I are going to get you out of here, but you have to survive a talk with Thranduil first. Just try to keep Thorin calm, and we can get you out of here, okay,” she said hurriedly, pushing herself up and making her way to the door.

Her hand was on the door, before she paused, and looked back at Kili. “I love you,” she whispered.

“And I you. Now go, before they catch you in here,” he said, motioning to the door. Both Legolas and her snuck out gently and the guards from before came back into the room.

He was getting so many incredulous looks from the awake dwarves, which, luckily enough for him did not include Thorin. Or so he thought.

Thorin was lying there, his eyes shut, and a whole variety of emotions underneath his skin. He should feel rage boiling underneath his skin, but for some reason, there wasn’t any. Instead he felt something akin to pride. There were two elves who were betraying Thranduil, one of whom was Kili’s One.

He could safely say, that even without meeting the elf formally, that she might be okay. Any elf that hated Thranduil was okay in his books.

The doors slammed open again, and Thorin’s stomach dropped through the floor. He knew that he wasn’t going to be so lucky, not this time. He opened his eyes to watch Thranduil make his grand entrance into the room, strutting all the way up to his throne, where he promptly collapsed gracefully onto the seat, staring around the room at all of the dwarves that were lying around. Each one of these dwarves were pretending to be asleep, all of them except Thorin, who was blatantly staring at Thranduil, almost as if he was challenging him.

Both Thranduil and Thorin knew that all of the dwarves were not asleep, but to his credit, Thranduil left it alone, instead choosing to talk to Thorin directly.

“Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homeland and to slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive. Attempted burglary or something of that nature. You have found a way in. You seek that that would bestow upon you the right to rule. The King’s Jewel. The Arkenstone. It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that. There are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems of pure starlight. I offer you my help, if you but return what is mine. You have my word, one king to another,” Thranduil said to him, and Thorin wanted to scoff in his face, to rebut his offer. But something in him told him not to, not now, for his help could be more valuable now than ever. The little voice in him, it sounded a lot like Bilbo.

“I do not seek the Arkenstone anymore, for my right to rule is dictated by my blood, not by a worthless jewel,” Thorin almost spat, remembering what Bilbo and Kili had told him that the Arkenstone had done to him.

“Then what is it that you seek?” Thranduil asked, confusion evident on his face.

“I seek a homeland reclaimed for my people, and a war prevented. That is all, no more and no less,” Thorin said calmly, looking directly at Thranduil and watching for his reaction. To his credit, he did not even flinch at the mention of the future.

“I have heard whispers of a remembered time, one that had not yet come to pass. The captain of my guard appears to remember, just as I think some members of your company do. I do not, as I think is the same with you. Perhaps that is why you are civil with me,” Thranduil thought out loud. “What do you think of my proposal?”

“I know no matter what I say, the white gems will always end up back in your hands, whether it by me or my successors. There is nothing that I can do to prevent you getting those gems back, so I will not try. If you let us go without fuss, then I can promise you those gems back. You have my word, one king to another,” Thorin said, repeating Thranduil’s words from earlier. Thranduil nodded at him.

“That is a fine offer, one that I must accept. I will have my son and the captain of the guard escort you to the border,” Thranduil said calmly, sinking back into his throne. He said something in elvish, and elves came flooding in, cutting the ropes that tied them to the pole. The company, each escorted by an elven guard, walked out the room impatiently.

Dwalin was the last to leave, as he looked back at Thorin, wondering what was taking him so long. Truthfully, Thorin didn’t know, but he motioned for Dwalin to go and collect his things.

Thorin glanced back at Thranduil, who was standing, paused at the doorway of the back entrance, before he turned around and addressed Thorin again. “One other thing,” he said, glancing at Thorin.

“Hm?”

“Your hobbit. He is precious to you beyond measure. I suggest you remember that,” Thranduil said, before spinning around and leaving Thorin alone in the throne room.

“Trust me,” Thorin said out loud. “I am in no hurry to forget it.”

“Forget what?” Bilbo Baggins voice carried through the throne room, and Thorin spun around instantly, seeing that the hobbit in question was standing against the doorway, arms crossed.

“Nothing of importance Master Baggins. Just some politics,” Thorin dismissed, and although outwardly, Bilbo accepted the dismissal, inside he was not so convinced.

Thorin, on the other hand, was experiencing a new sensation, where his stomach was twisted into knots and his hands were getting all sweaty. Bilbo patted him gently on the shoulder, and suddenly he felt like leaning into the touch, into turning that touch into something more, although he wasn’t really sure what that something else was. What was Bilbo doing to him? And when did he start referring to Master Baggins as Bilbo?

“Come, Thorin. The others are waiting on you,” Bilbo said, walking out of the room. Thorin did not hesitate to follow, which confused him. He did not just follow anyone, not without consideration. But he trusted Bilbo so whole-heartedly, because there was just no way that Master Baggins could be a bad person. No way.

Internally, Bilbo was also having a mini freak-out, which was very out of place for a respectable gentle-hobbit like himself. He had heard what Thorin had said to Thranduil, and all of what Thranduil had said back, including the bit about the ‘precious hobbit’. And then after, how Thorin had agreed with Thranduil about it, about maybe how he felt for Bilbo.

Bilbo had already come to terms with his unconditional love for the brooding, angry dwarf, the one that did everything in his power to reclaim his homeland and yet it wasn’t enough for him. Where nothing is ever enough for him until it is absolutely perfect.

It has caused many a Baggins, both male and female, a lot of heartbreak, because all of these Bagginses could not work up the nerve to approach the object of their affections, and subsequently, the object of their affections moved on to another person, leaving the Baggins to pine silently from afar for the rest of their lives, eventually settling for another hobbit that did not satisfy the heart like the first hobbit would. _This time,_ Bilbo vowed, _this time, this Baggins will not pine from afar for the rest of his life. This time, he will do something about it. Eventually._

***

It took the Company a whole lot of grumbling, moaning and questioning, but eventually they managed to get themselves out of the Mirkwood Palace and back onto the road. Tauriel was walking in the front, and Kili had been sent to the back, because Thorin would be strung up by his braids by Dis if she ever got word that Kili had been left alone with his One before he had declared his intent and given his first gift. He valued his braids too much for that.

Both Bilbo and Kili were extremely happy now, even though Kili was not allowed to speak to his One without extreme supervision, because they were on the move so many days ahead of schedule, and he didn’t even have to get shot and poisoned. That was a definite upside to all of this.

Legolas was also quite relieved that he didn’t have to openly betray his father, but he was seriously considering accompanying the Company the rest of the way to the Lonely Mountain. They would need all the help that they could get, and Legolas was not above offering himself and Tauriel to help. He honestly didn’t think Tauriel would have many complaints about the idea. She’d probably be all for the idea, to be honest.

Thorin, on the other hand, was walking up the front, Tauriel beside him, and he was honestly wondering what to do with her. On the outside, he was cool, calm and collected. On the inside, he was freaking out. This was his nephews One, for Mahal’s sake, an elf that could very potentially become part of the family. Should he make casual conversation? If he did, what would he talk about with her? This wasn’t something to take lightly. This was something that was going to make an impression, and they were so very important.

Tauriel was also freaking out, for the exact same reason as Thorin was. He could very potentially become her uncle-in-law, which was a position that was a lot more important than it seemed, and she couldn’t afford to give a bad impression to him.

What she didn’t know, is that the impression had already been made, and it was resoundingly positive. In Thorin’s books, any elf that was willing to betray Thranduil was a good elf in his books, one that he was moderately happy to have in the family. Yes, it would take a lot of getting used to, but it was a whole lot better than Kili being fated to an elf who was Thranduil’s number one supporter.

So Thorin initiated a conversation with Tauriel with a simple nod and a grunt. _If you are willing to betray Thranduil to help my family, then I approve of you and Kili._

Tauriel replied with just a glint in her eyes. _What about Legolas?_

Thorin just grunted again, this time deeper and angrier. _We’ll see. If he crosses the border with us then he is a good egg._

Tauriel smiled at him. _Then I approve of you._

Thorin then attempted something with his mouth, something that would be considered a smile if Thorin wasn’t as emotionally constipated as he was. _Good._

Thorin and Tauriel walked on in silence, glad this agreement had been reached. Behind them, all of the dwarves were totally baffled by the conversation that had just taken place, some of them doubting that a conversation had even taken place at all.

Bilbo and Kili just smiled to themselves, because they, unlike the rest of the company, were absolutely fluent in the languages that were Thorin and Tauriel. It made Kili swell with pride for Tauriel, because although Thorin’s approval did not dictate whether he would marry Tauriel or not, it was still appreciated, and still something that he wanted.

The company walked on through the murky forest, unaware of the darkness that was following them, overshadowing their every move. It would show itself very soon, in the form of a ring that was sitting on the finger of a creature deep beneath the Goblin Caves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends it is i, coming to you live with another slightly longer chapter
> 
> i have received the most overly positive comments from all of you people who read this story and it makes my day when someone else says they like this story!
> 
> ten chapters and 27k in, i hope you are all enjoying reading this as much as i like writing this :)
> 
> ilysm to all of you
> 
> if you ever want to talk hobbit/any other fandom with me : belllxrke.tumblr.com
> 
> p.s. if a fandom exists, i am probably in it


	11. eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they leave, get the ring, and good things happen (for the first time ever)

eleven

And here they were. The Company were standing on the edge of the Mirkwood Forest, sunlight fresh on their faces. It seemed like such a paradise outside of this forest, but yet, they could not bring themselves to step over the edge. It was like something wanted them to stay, something dark. 

Tauriel and Legolas were the only ones who seemed to be able to move freely across the border, but they were still debating whether they should go with the Company, or stay within the relative safety of the Mirkwood Forest. 

“Should we?” Legolas asked her.

“I am. I have no choice,” Tauriel replied, looking toward the mountains outside the border. 

“You always have a choice Tauriel, whether you see that choice or not,” Legolas said.

“When did you get so wise?” she taunted at him, and he smiled, looking back at the dwarves. 

“Should we?” he repeated. She nodded.

“What is the worst that can happen?” She laughed, trying to disguise the fear in her voice. There were so many things that could go wrong if she made the wrong decision here. If the dwarves failed in their quest, then there was no hope for her anymore.

She would most likely be taken back to Mirkwood, found guilty of treason against the King, and executed. That was how the justice system worked here, and the threat of death was a looming one. 

But, she reasoned, the threat of death was everywhere. No matter where she was in the world, there was always going to be the threat of death, whether it by spiders or orcs or goblins. There was enough evil in this world that no matter where she went, each step could very well be her last. 

These dwarves, they were brave and full of courage, their only goal to reclaim a lost homeland. Their quest was honest and good, and Tauriel didn’t think she had it in her to deny their request for help. That just wasn’t something she would do. 

“If you go,” Legolas said solemnly, “Then I go.”

“Are you sure? Your father…” Tauriel said, trailing off. Thranduil could not execute his only heir, but he could do so many more unspeakable things to him behind closed doors. 

“These dwarves are honourable, and I would feel proud to stand among them, if they would let me, that is,” Legolas said, turning to Thorin and asking him the last part. 

“It would be our honour to have you walk among us, Legolas Thranduillion,” Thorin said, bowing slightly at him. “Erebor offers you all the protection we can give.” 

If Bilbo had to pick a moment when he was most proud of Thorin, this moment was it. He was putting aside a century long feud with the elves because two of them were willing to betray their own people to help the dwarves in their quest. 

“Come on then,” Nori piped up from the back. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Legolas took his first step over the border of the Mirkwood Forest in over a hundred years, and felt the sun on his face. _So this is what it is like to be free,_ he thought, smiling.

***

Hundreds of miles away, deep in the Mirkwood Palace, Thranduil’s eyes opened with a start. The bond between him and his son had been severed, and his heart now ached for the bond to be replaced. 

His son had stepped outside the border.

_ I have tried my hardest to keep you safe Legolas,  _ he thought to himself, _but it seems you are set in your ways. You are grown now, so I shall not keep you here._

“May the blessings of the Valar be upon you, Legolas my son,” he said aloud, hoping and praying that his son had received the blessing. He shut his eyes again, leaning back into his chair. His son would do him proud, that he was sure of. 

He had never done anything less.

***

The goblin caves were rapidly approaching, and the dread in Bilbo’s stomach was growing with every step that they took towards the mountains. The plan was that Tauriel, Nori and Bilbo would sneak into the caves where the creature and the ring were, recover the ring, slay the creature and be out before Azog arrived. 

Thorin knew all about Azog, about how Bilbo had risked his life for him here, and where this was the place that the Company really became a Company, because here, he acknowledged that Bilbo was here to help them, instead of just being in it for his own gain.

This time, he did not make the same mistake. This time, he acknowledged Bilbo as one of them. 

Tauriel had insisted that it would be better if just she and Bilbo went alone into the goblin caves, because a smaller party would attract less attention. But even though Thorin was beginning to trust the two elves that had joined their company, it did not mean that he was going to leave Bilbo alone with one of them. He was one of them, after all. 

So he had volunteered Nori to go with them, much to Nori’s excitement, because Nori was easily the most sneaky of the Company, the reason why Thorin had hired him in the first place. 

“Tauriel, if you run into goblins on the way, it would make me feel a lot more confident if someone else was with you. You can’t take on a whole army of goblins alone, and Nori can help you there, okay?” He said as calmly as he could manage, and Tauriel had to concede.

“I guess you’re right,” she said, and Thorin nodded. 

“Good. Now, Bilbo, where is this entrance that you speak of?” Thorin asked, moving on to grill Bilbo about all of the details about the Goblin King’s lair. Thorin had enough experience in battle to know that the only plans that worked were the ones that were planned extensively, and the ones where everyone knew exactly what they were doing. 

Thorin was not about to get someone killed because he didn’t plan enough, and so he made sure that he had run through the plan at least twenty times with everyone before nightfall. They would camp in a clearing just outside of the Goblin Caves for the night, during which time Tauriel, Nori and Bilbo would sneak into the cave, get the ring, and be out by midnight, giving them enough time to rest for a bit before they made a move, running as far as they could away from Azog and the Orcs. 

Azog had been chasing them for days now, Thorin could feel it in his bones, pushing his army forth in a desperate attempt to catch them. Thorin had pushed his dwarves on too, faster and faster, because he could no risk them getting injured by orcs, not now. 

“We’re here,” Tauriel’s voice rang sharp through the clearing, and all of the company grinned, each one of them dumping their packs on the ground and groaning when the weight left their backs. 

Nori had already laid out his bedroll and looked to be sleeping. If he was quite honest, Thorin didn’t even think he was surprised. 

“Get up Nori, you have things to be doing,” Dwalin said gruffly, kicking him. 

“Can’t we have five minutes just to catch our breaths before we go off again?” Nori grumbled. 

“Please Thorin,” Bilbo groaned, and Thorin had to concede. 

“If we must,” he grumbled, sitting down on one of the rocks. The moment he did, however, he understood why everyone was grumbling for a break. His back and feet were aching, a feeling he was all too familiar with. But even though he was familiar with it that did not mean that he was good at dealing with this sort of pain. Sword and knife wounds were probably less painful than this. 

Maybe if he just laid down, just for a bit, and shut his eyes…

The sound of a horn woke him up instantly, and he reached for his sword. The sun was almost completely gone, which meant that they had all fallen asleep, and that the Orcs had caught up with them.

Azog was here.  

“Everyone up, now!” He roared, and the company shook themselves out of the clutches of sleep groggily, most of them instinctually reaching for some sort of weapon.

“What’s going on?” Bilbo wondered, rubbing his eyes. 

“Go Master Baggins. Get the ring,” Thorin said, not bothering to explain himself. Tauriel had already grabbed her weapons as she clutched both Bilbo and Nori’s arms and ran. 

“Where’s the entrance?” she said frantically, arrow drawn and ready to fire at a moments notice. 

“That way,” Bilbo said, pointing. He found himself dashing to it, like it was the most important thing in the world to get there and out in a matter of minutes. And then the sound he had heard before sounded again, and this time he placed what it was. 

That horn was an Orc war horn. The dwarves were under attack. 

“We have to go back and help them,” he protested, almost ready to stop, but Tauriel tightened her grip on his arm and forced him to keep running. 

“If you want to help them, you can find that ring as quickly as possible, so that we can all get out of here. Do you understand?” she said hurriedly, manoeuvring towards the entrance.

“Okay,” he repeated breathlessly, sliding between the crack that Tauriel was forcing him between. He remembered this path more than he wanted to, as he drew his sword and pointed it in the direction that he was going. Gollum was close. And if he was close, that meant that the ring was close. 

“Hurry,” he whispered, moving along the path. 

“My preciousss.” Gollum’s voice came echoing through the tunnel. Tauriel and Nori both thought that he was talking about the ring, but Bilbo knew better. He was talking to himself.  

“Yesss. Yesss. Yesss,” he repeated to himself, “Gollum. Gollum.”

“Nasty goblinses. Better than old bones, precious.” Bilbo peeked his head around the corner and found that Gollum was dragging the corpse of a dead goblin along the ground, transporting it to the lake. 

“Stay here,” Bilbo whispered to Tauriel and Nori, who both instantly tried to hold him back. 

“What do you think you are doing?” Nori whispered. “We’re supposed to stay with you, remember?” 

“Just trust me, okay. The creature is weak now, and will do no harm to me. If it attacks me, I’m sure that Tauriel can shoot him down with one arrow. Now please, just trust me. I know how to deal with Gollum,” Bilbo said, moving so that he was crouched behind a rock, Gollum right behind him. 

Gollum grabbed the goblins feet and dragged it over the rocky ground. He walked slowly through the caves, muttering to himself. Bilbo followed him, making sure that he was going exactly where he wanted him to go. His grip on Sting was making his knuckles go white, but he didn’t dare let go, not now.

He stayed very still behind the rock, noticing that Gollum had stopped muttering. He had noticed Bilbo. Gollum creeped up the rock and jumped, landing swiftly in front of Bilbo. 

“Blesses and splashes, that’s a meaty mouthful, isn’t it precious,” Gollum said, advancing on Bilbo. Bilbo raised the sword, just so that the tip of it was resting on his torso. Gollum backed off instantly.

“Stay back, I just want something here, that’s all,” Bilbo declared, trying his hardest to keep the shaking out of his voice. 

“Elvish blade, but it is not an elfs. What is it, precious? What is it?” Gollum questioned, advancing again on Bilbo, who did not drop his blade. 

“My name is Bilbo Baggins,” Bilbo stated. 

“Bagginses? What is a bagginses?” Gollum asked, more to himself than Bilbo.

“I am a hobbit, from the Shire,” he replied, wondering if Gollum remembered his past as Smeagol, the hobbit who lived in the Shire. Every hobbit had grown up hearing the tale of Smeagol the mad hobbit, and it was only when Frodo returned from his quest was he informed that the creature he met in the Goblin Caves was a former inhabitant of the Shire. 

“We like goblins, and bats and fishes, but we haven’t tried hobbitses before. Is it soft, is it juicy?” Gollum’s mouth began to water, and Bilbo wanted to laugh. He wasn’t going to get eaten today, nor any day in the future, or so he hoped.

“It isn’t something that you eat. Now I just want something from down here and I will be on my way, okay?” Bilbo asked, trying to think of a way to distract Gollum while he looked for the ring.

“What do you want from down here, precious?” Gollum said, clearly not persuaded to drop the subject. 

“Just something. Do you want to play a game for a while, just while I find it?” Bilbo asked, remembering the riddles that Gollum had told him the last time he found himself down here. 

“Games? Oh, we love games, doesn’t we precious. Does it like games? Does it like games?” Gollum was clearly excited by the prospect of playing a game, and Bilbo thought that that was fair, considering the only company he had had down here were half dead goblins and bats. 

“I like games, but most of all, I like riddles. How about we play a game of riddles, just the two of us, hm?” Bilbo offered, and Gollum’s eyes glinted.

“Just you and me, precious,” he said, strangely quiet, like he didn’t want anyone to overhear.

“Just you and me,” Bilbo confirmed for him.  “You can go first.”

“Okay precious. What has roots that nobody sees? Is taller than trees. Up, up, up it goes, but yet it never grows?” Gollum asked, and Bilbo smiled inwardly. He had given this riddle last time. 

Bilbo was about to answer, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glint on the floor. He shot a glance at it while he pretended to think. The ring!

The ring was sitting, abandoned, on the floor, which Bilbo thought was very lucky indeed. He walked as discreetly as he could over to it, still pretending to think. 

“Is it a mountain?” he wondered aloud, knowing full well that it was the answer. 

“Precious is very good, very good,” Gollum said, clapping his hands, before walking off to the water. The moment his back had turned, Bilbo bent down and picked the ring up, slipping it into his pocket. Gollum’s mood instantly changed. From the moment that he had even touched the ring, he seemed to now act more like he wanted to kill Bilbo, instead of just wanting to play a game of riddles with him.

“What has it got in its pocketses?” Gollum asked, his voice shaking slightly with anger, and Bilbo raised Sting higher, pointing it directly at Gollum. 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” he said, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice.

“Where is it? Where is it? NO! Lost! Lost! Curses and splashes. My precious is lost!” Gollum screamed, looking like he was about to smash his head against the rock.

“What have you lost?” Bilbo asked shakily, trying to kill some time as he backed up towards the exit. 

“Not his business. Gollum. Gollum,” he repeated, looking frantically for the ring, before he came to the conclusion that Bilbo had taken it, which was true, but still. “What has it got in its nasty little pocketses? He stole it. He stole it!”

“I haven’t taken anything,” Bilbo said, now almost sprinting towards the exit. 

“Where is he? WHERE IS PRECIOUS?” Gollum yelled at him. Bilbo couldn’t take it any longer. He turned around and sprinted out of the caves. 

“Run!” He yelled at Tauriel and Nori as he passed them, and they joined him in sprinting down the corridor and out into the darkness of the night. 

However, the sight that greeted them was most definitely not a dark one. 

The trees were all ablaze, and the dwarves were fighting against a whole army of orcs, something that Bilbo remembered very well. But this time, it was different. The whole patterning of the orc’s attack was different, like they remembered the previous battle too. 

But when he got closer to the battle, he saw that something a lot better had happened. He could see the dead body of Azog and Bolg, laying in a pile. Three of Kili’s arrows were sticking out of Bolg and it was obvious that Thorin was the one to kill Azog.

Legolas was perched in a tree, killing orc after orc while Ori ran around and collected his arrows for him. The orcs just kept on coming, but the dwarves were ready for them this time. This time, there would be no commander for the orc army in the Battle of the Five Armies.

This time, the line of Durin would live.

His heart seemed to soar higher than ever as he slipped on the ring and joined the battle, staying firmly invisible, which was a massive advantage. Tauriel joined Legolas in the trees and Nori joined his family on the front lines. 

Bilbo just held Sting out, and let the orcs run into it, switching arms every once in a while. The dwarves had all noticed, and most were laughing, which made Bilbo laugh too.

For the first time in a long time, he could not hear the voice of the Ring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GOOD THINGS HAPPENED!
> 
> hope you are all enjoying the story :)
> 
> when you wanna talk about the hobbit come chat with me @ belllxrke.tumblr.com
> 
> p.s. I REACHED 30K THATS THE LONGEST FIC EVER IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF :)


	12. twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> durins are useless with love, the ring is broken/weird/something/??? ands orcs are scared

twelve

The plains were covered in this thick fog, and all the Company could do was move slowly through it in single file, warning each other for rocks and other things in their path. Tauriel and Legolas were constantly on the move, watching for orcs and wargs. Their eyes were a lot more used to this darkness, having spent their entire lives in the Mirkwood Forest.

But despite the murky conditions that they were all in, every-ones spirits seemed to be relatively high. Fili and Ori seemed to be spending more time together, and Kili and Tauriel had managed to sneak a few moments alone. Thorin was considerably less obsessed with gold than he was the first time around, which was always a positive.

But Bilbo was terrified out of his mind. The Ring had not whispered to him, not tried to plant the seeds of doubt in his head. It had not tried to convince Bilbo to put it on or whispered to him about the power of Sauron. It had not said anything at all.

Maybe he should try it on, just to be sure that it isn’t a fake.

But he restrained himself, telling himself that he _shouldn’t fall prey to the Ring, no matter what it is or what it isn’t telling you._ If he put the Ring on now and it was real, then the Ring might start to manipulate him into never taking it off, never wanting to share the power that it brought.

So he trekked on, the lingering concern staying in the pit of his stomach. _Maybe I should tell Thorin,_ he thought to himself. _Or Gandalf, if he was here and not off investigating some claim about some tombs with another wizard. He made a pledge to the Company to assist them with their quest, and yet he just abandoned us because of some runes._

But that sort of behaviour was very typical with Gandalf, and Bilbo had come to realise that he could expect nothing less from him. Wizards, especially Gandalf, did what they pleased, and no contract could hold them down in one place for very long. He did have the knack of appearing in the nick of time anyway, so as long as he kept doing that, it was probably okay that he disappeared all the time. Probably.

In the distance, Tauriel had stopped suddenly, for the ground below her was now disjointed, rising and falling in odd places. Tracks.

“Legolas?” Tauriel called out, bending down to look at them more closely. “I think we might have company pretty soon.”

He ran swiftly over to her, stopping and running his fingers over the dirt. “I don’t think so. These orcs are fleeing something, not chasing us.”

“Do you think that they are running because Azog is dead, and they have no commander?” She asked, praying that that was the case, even though something in her heart told her that there was something more sinister at work here.

“I fear it is something else. They are fleeing from something else,” Legolas said gravely. “What could they be fleeing from?”

“The Goblin King, perhaps?” She asked, remembering that he would not yet be dead because the Company had not come across him.

“No, he would not venture out of his caves. They are fleeing from a darker power than him.” Legolas ran his fingers along the tracks again, pausing to think, before calling out to Thorin. “Master Oakenshield.”

“Yes?” Thorin walked over to the two crouched elves as best he could in the thick fog, also noticing the tracks that surrounded them all.

“What do you make of these?” Legolas asked.

“They aren’t chasing us, they’re going in the wrong direction for that to be the case. Are they fleeing, or are they chasing another target?” Thorin wondered aloud.

“But if they are chasing someone else, who else would be valuable to the orcs enough for them to chase them?” Legolas countered.

Thorin just grunted in reply, turning the thought over and over in his head. Legolas did have a point, though. Who would the orcs be so interested in chasing? Or, which would be the worst scenario, who would they be so afraid of that they would flee from?

Bilbo, although he was trying to deny it, even to himself, had a feeling that he knew exactly who was scary enough that the orcs would flee from, and who was helping him.

“It’s Sauron,” Bilbo whispered.

“What Master Baggins?” Thorin had heard Bilbo mumble something, leading Bilbo to curse under his breath.

“I said, the one the orcs are running from. It’s Sauron. The orcs are running from Sauron,” Bilbo said, this time more confidently.

“Sauron is dead, Master Baggins,” Legolas said calmly, trying to reassure him.

“No, Legolas. He isn’t,” Tauriel said gravely, looking into the distance. “He returned sixty years from now, with the help and guidance of Saruman the Wizard. A company much like ourselves was formed, with four hobbits, a dwarf, two men, and you Legolas. This company’s goal was to assist one of the hobbits in taking the One Ring to Mordor, the place where it was forged and the only place where it can be destroyed. Sauron was defeated and the darkness disappeared from the Mirkwood, turning it into the Greenwood once again.”

The mood of the entire company seemed to darken, and Thorin frowned. “And?” He found himself prompting her to fill in the rest of her story.

“I fear Saruman is also behind this, for he ran from Rivendell when he heard my tale. I believe he has gone to Isengard, where he will attempt to rally troops. The only thing scary enough to make Orc’s flee, could very possibly be Sauron,” Bilbo cut in, sighing. “We have to keep moving. We cannot afford to have Sauron’s reach get to Smaug, because a dragon could be used in a war to terrible effect.”

“He is right. If Sauron convinces Smaug to fight with his army, then it will be a lot harder to overcome his forces,” Tauriel said.

“Then we must continue on,” Thorin said, and began to walk. The rest of the company followed him, cutting their way through the thick fog that had not yet let up.

The aching feeling of worry had settled into each and every member of the company’s stomach, but Fili was feeling the weight of that fear.

He had always been afraid of what he potentially could become, what weight he would have to carry around on his shoulders constantly. He was always destined to become king, and he had known that from an early age, but there were always circumstances that meant that he would be a leader, but not really a king.

This had the potential to change that. With Sauron confirmed to be alive and rallying an army, then he might have to call the banners, so to speak, to rally his own army. Thorin would try to lead it, but if he died in battle, then everything would come down to Fili. Everything seemed to always come down to Fili.

But now, there might be someone else who could help him with all of those problems. Now, there could be someone who was willing to stand alongside him, no matter what happened anywhere else. But we’d just have to wait and see about that.

He could not begin to court someone when he had no possessions or anything to claim as his own. He had no beads, or gifts that he could present, and if a dwarf did not have that, then he wasn’t worthy of the other. _When Erebor has been reclaimed,_ he thought to himself, _that is when I will do something about it. I will forge my gifts, and I will present them, and everything will be done properly. That will make my family happy._

Durin’s, all in all, were a pretty stupid family when it came to romance and love. It was traditionally considered proper to be wealthy, or at least have something to offer the other dwarf when you began courting them, but now, to a majority of dwarves, especially poor ones, that sort of thing didn’t matter. Marriage was supposed to be about love, not what you had to offer your One. Your love should be enough.

Thorin and Fili put off their potential engagements because of this stupid tradition, and look where it got them. Nothing. Their One’s were both left never knowing how they felt, because they died.

Now, Kili, on the other hand, was a pretty unconventional Durin, and told his One how he felt the moment he met her. And although he died, it was probably better that he told Tauriel that he loved her instead of just leaving her curious for the rest of her life. That entire line of idiots should be taking lessons from him instead of the other way around.

But that was just Bilbo’s opinion, because he was told once how Thorin felt about him, but that was on his deathbed and that was overall a pretty terrible experience. It was like feeding his heart with all the love in the world, and then ripping it to shreds with a million knives three seconds later.

But, maybe it was worth it. And this time, he would make it even more worth it.

Something was wrong. The Ring, it wasn’t telling him that he wasn’t worth it, or trying to dishearten him. It wasn’t trying to tempt him to join Sauron, and it wasn’t telling him that Thorin and the rest of the Company hated him.

“Thorin, wait up,” he called, jogging slightly to catch up with him.

“Is everything alright?” Thorin asked when Bilbo had caught up with him.

“I think that the Ring we have is a fake, but I don’t want to put it on to check, because I’m scared it will corrupt me further,” Bilbo said quickly, the words just falling out of him.

“I think you should put it on,” Thorin said as he looked ahead. He made a motion for the company to continue walking, much to the confusion of the rest of the Company. His face appeared grave, but that was no surprise, as it was almost always appeared to be grave.

“But…” Bilbo protested, but the words died on his lips.

“Exactly. Just test it, for five seconds, and take it off immediately after. There is no harm in it Master Baggins, because we are all here to keep you safe, okay,” Thorin said simply, not looking at him.

“Okay,” Bilbo said, his heart racing. He didn’t even notice he was doing it, but his hand was in his pocket, absentmindedly playing with the Ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and fiddled with it a bit more, unsure if what Thorin was telling him was the right decision.

“What are you waiting for?” Dori called from the back. “We’re all here, you’ll be fine!”

“Okay,” he whispered again, slipping the cold metal of the Ring onto his finger. And just like that, the world blurred, but this time, it was different. The colours seemed to be more vibrant, like everything had been enhanced. He wanted to keep the Ring on, to keep looking at the world like this, but Thorin’s presence beside him told him that he had to take the Ring off.

The entire company was staring straight through him, as he began to feel what it was like to be invisible. It was great and all, but when it was people you considered to be your family, then it was pretty hard just to sit back and look at them, when they couldn’t even see you.

He reached for Thorin’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, noting that for the moment, Thorin completely disappeared. Straight after, he slipped the ring off, and all the colours returned to normal.

“So?” Ori questioned the moment the pair of them reappeared. “What happened?”

“Something’s off. The Ring is still the Ring, and has all the powers that the Ring had are still there, just the colours are more vibrant, instead of dull,” Bilbo reflected, turning the thought over and over again in his head.

“Is that a bad thing?” Balin asked him curiously.

“No, I don’t think it is a bad thing. Just, a curious thing, that’s all,” Bilbo replied, leaving the dwarves confused. To be fair, he was very confused too.

But that was no matter now, for even though the fog hadn’t lifted, Bilbo could see in the distance a river, and a fisherman that was on board. Suddenly, with only a few words exchanged, the entire mood of the company lifted, and there was a smile on everyone’s face. A smile that would soon drop when they found out what was required of them in order to get there.

Their way into Laketown was sitting right there, in the form of Bard the Bowman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im back with this short thing
> 
> but thats okay, because there is so much drama in this thing
> 
> also durins are useless with love like guys get your act together come on you've had like 100 years come on
> 
> they're so cute though ^_^
> 
> if you want to talk about the fact that there are so many dwarves in love with ori and it was so hard to pick the one that would fall in love with him in this story, come follow me @ belllxrke.tumblr.com


	13. thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bard smuggles them in
> 
> (thats all that happens surprise)

thirteen

It wasn’t as if Bard was unaware that this day was coming. He just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, that’s all. He knew what was about to happen, and what was going to come to pass in the future, and why he remembered.

One hobbit, one dwarf, one elf and one man were to remember, no more and no less.

The Lady Galadriel had been very kind to him when she passed through here, informing him that his dreams were a lot more than dreams and it would do him well to avoid the mistakes that he made last time. The Black Arrow was currently being stored near the wind lance, because he knew that he did not have time to run all the way back to his house and to the wind lance again.

But up there, standing on the hill, were thirteen dwarves, two elves and a hobbit. No wizard, but Bard knew that it was akin to suicide to count on a wizard, so he had expected that. What he didn’t expect was the two elves that stood with the company, because he most definitely did not remember Legolas giving the dwarves the warm reunion he had given them before.

One of those two elves had to be the one chosen to remember, or else they most definitely would not be standing there so peacefully, just waiting for someone else to make the first move. If he remembered correctly, last time it was Balin, one of Thorin’s advisors that came and spoke to him first.

And that made sense, because he was obviously going to be the most diplomatic of the group, compared to how diplomatic Thorin was in the later stages of his life.

He’d have to be diplomatic too, because Bard had pulled a bow on them, and shot weapons out of their hands with deadly accuracy. That was sure to scare even the bravest men, well, he hoped.

He had let himself be seen this time, because it would not do him well to have them wait for him. He could be anywhere, and they didn’t know if he would even come here to smuggle them into Laketown, let alone if he remembered anything from the past.

“Excuse me,” came a kindly voice. Balin had begun to speak, and Bard smiled to himself. He turned around to face the rest of the dwarves, noting that the one who was injured previously was no longer suffering from any apparent injuries, besides the obvious sleep-deprivation and lack of proper food. Every dwarf was currently feeling the effects of those two things, and Bard pitied them. Maybe the smell of dead fish would help with that.

“Are you from Laketown? That barge over there, it wouldn’t be available for hire by any chance,” Balin said with a smile.

“It is only for hire if you meet my requirements,” he said, smiling, as he began to move the barrels around in the barge.

“And what would those requirements be?” Balin asked, his fake smile beginning to drop.

“You would need to be willing to stuff yourselves in barrels with a whole lot of dead fish, and the elves would need to find their own way into Laketown. Oh, and you would need to have a very good knowledge of the future,” he said as offhandedly as he could manage. Everyone gaped at him.

“You remember?” Bilbo said, shock filling his voice.

“Of course I remember. One elf, dwarf, man and hobbit were all chosen to remember, so that we could all come together and change the future, or something like that,” Bard replied, not looking up from the barrels still.

“And who told you that?” Thorin asked defensively.

“The Lady Galadriel was most helpful when she passed through here,” he said decidedly, like it was the most normal thing in the world to have one of the most powerful elves in Middle Earth talk to you. “Are you coming aboard or what?”

***

The smell of dead fish around the boat was almost suffocating, but Bard endured. He did not have it bad if he compared himself to the dwarves, who were all surrounded by it with no escape. He knew what was coming, the eventual questioning by Alfrid, the Master’s assistant, if you could even call him that. He was more like a devoted slave, someone who would do anything just to try and please him.

In Bard’s opinion, however, he was a disgusting greasy man, and someone that Bard dreaded to interact with, mainly because of his never ending desire to prove Bard guilty of some crime, whether that crime was invented or not.

He sailed his barge forward, stopping in front of the gate, where the gatekeeper Percy was resting behind his desk. Percy had seen the boat that was coming towards the gate, but he had not yet noticed who the captain was.

“Halt, good’s inspection. Papers please. Oh, it’s you Bard.” Percy was a friendly man, and Bard probably would go as far to consider him his friend, but that did not mean he trusted him. He had just as many mouths to feed as Bard did, maybe more, and he would do almost anything for a bit of coin, including ratting Bard out to the Master.

“Morning, Percy,” Bard said in a monotone voice.

“Anything to declare?” Percy asked him, holding his hand out for Bard’s papers. Security was tight in Laketown, especially since the Master came into power. He was a greasy, fat man, who cowered away from any fight and sat in his office all day, having Alfrid run around and do all of his dirty work for him.

“Only that I am cold and tired, and ready for home,” Bard said with a sigh, prompting a small chuckle from Percy.

“You and me both,” Percy said, handing back his papers. “Here we are. All in order.”

“Not so fast.” Alfrid’s slimy voice rang out clearly, and Bard had to resist the urge to wince. He walked over to him and plucked the papers out of his hands, reading them over and over again. “Consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland Realm. Only, they’re not empty, are they Bard? As far as I know, you’re licensed as a bargeman, not a fisherman.”

“That’s none of your business,” Bard almost spat at him.

“Wrong. It’s the Master’s business, which makes it my business,” Alfrid replied, a greasy smile on his face. Alfrid had this increased sense of self-worth, where he thought he was more important than he actually was.

 “Come on Alfrid, have a heart. The people need to eat,” Bard protested, gesturing to the fish. Alfrid decided that now would actually be a good time to pick up a fish, causing Bombur’s heartrate to skyrocket. Bombur could now see everything that was going on, which was both a good thing and bad, because his eye and part of his beard was now exposed for everyone to see.

“These fish are illegal. Empty the barrels over the side,” Alfrid ordered, and the guards immediately sprung into action.

“Come on, you heard him. Into the canal, get a move on,” ordered one of the guards, who stood by the mast lazily. Bard tried to think back to what he had said when Alfrid had questioned him before, what he had said to get himself out of this mess.

“The folk in this town are struggling. Times are hard, food is scarce,” he rambled, trying to delay the guards from throwing the fish over the side. His face may have appeared straight and calm, but inside he was anything but. The dwarves were doing their bests to keep the barrels on the ground and the fish inside the barrels, but it wasn’t going to work for long.

“Not my problem,” Alfrid replied, blowing him off. Then it came to him, what he had said.

“And when the people hear that the Master has been dumping fish back into the lake, will it be your problem then?” He said almost angrily, and Alfrid’s greasy grin dropped.

 It took him a few seconds, a few long torturous seconds, before he called out to the guards, “Stop.”

“Ever the peoples champion, aren’t you Bard. Protector of the common folk. You may have their favour now, bargeman, but it won’t last,” he said, trying to cover for himself and to make Bard seem like the bad guy. He walked off the barge, the guards close behind him, and disappeared into the city. Bard relaxed, but only a little bit. Even though the hardest part was over, there were still some more obstacles that would need to be overcome.

“Raise the gate,” Percy called, and the gate began to rise. Bard sailed straight through it, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Alfrid had returned, this time without the guards.

“The Master has his eye on you. Remember, we know where you live,” he said, trying to taunt him. Bard just stared at him.

“It’s a small town Alfred. Everyone knows where everyone lives.”

The moment those gates opened and the barge sailed through calmly, that was the moment that everyone’s hearts dropped back down from their throats to their chests. Tauriel and Legolas had watched on anxiously from a distance, as they were both perched on a rooftop, which was a lot safer than the perilous situation the dwarves had gotten themselves into yet again.

Bard could see the elves sitting on the roof, and he made a motion for them to follow him as he sailed down the river, directing his boat towards home.

Home. Where his daughters and son would be waiting for him with quite hopefully a hot meal and something to drink.

“Da!’ Someone shouted and he looked up to see Bain, his son, running towards him. He jumped onto the boat from the river and walked up to him.

“Our house is being watched,” he said under his breath.

 “Go back to the house,” he ordered his son, who looked confused. But Bard could not explain to him here, it was too risky. Instead, he gave him a weak smile and told him, “There is something I must do first.”

***

“Da, where have you been?” Tilda came running up to him as fast as her legs could carry her, and he picked her up and hugged her, swinging her around.

“Father, there you are! I’ve been worried.” Sigrid on the other hand, was standing in the doorway, her arms folded and a look of disapproval on her face. In this moment, she had never reminded Bard more of her mother.

“Here’s something to eat.” He handed the girls a bag and ushered them inside. “I have to do something first.”

Confusion was written all over the girls faces, but they did not question him, leaving him to move to the bathroom and look around cautiously. When he had judged that the coast was clear, he knocked on the toilet seat three times and lifted it up. Not even three seconds after he had done that, a head appeared from out of the basin.

“If you speak of this to anyone, I will personally rip your arms off,” Dwalin said gruffly, hoisting himself up. What followed was thirteen dwarves and a hobbit hoisting themselves out of the toilet and two elves slipping in as quietly as they could through the window. The only person that could possibly see them coming in was a man named Stephen, and Bard had already paid him with a bit of coin and some fish, which would be enough to keep him quiet, or so he hoped.

“Da, why are dwarves climbing up out of our toilet?” Sigrid asked, confusion all over her face.

“Will they bring us luck?” Tilda said hopefully, and Bard smiled. His youngest daughter was always so optimistic.

“Come. I will explain everything over a nice hot meal and something to drink,” he said gently with a smile, his arms around their shoulders. Sigrid immediately got to work cooking some of the fish up and brewing some tea, while Tilda and Bain tried to find some suitable clothes for the dwarves to wear while they dried the rest of their clothes out.

Eventually, Thorin, Bilbo and Bard were sitting around the small dining table, each with a steaming cup of tea and a plate of fish in front of them.

“Which dwarf and which elf remembers?” Bard asked, and Bilbo gestured to Kili and Tauriel. “Call them over. They will need to be a part of this.”

Kili and Tauriel walked over together, pulling out the two remaining chairs and sitting on them, sipping their tea gently.

“What do you know about the future, Master Oakenshield?” Bard asked as gently as he could, not wanting to offend the other dwarf.

“Enough to know I made a lot of mistakes, mistakes I do not intend to repeat any time soon,” Thorin said bitterly, and Bard knew just from his tone of voice that he knew about the gold sickness, what it had done to him and what it had done to his people.

“I have to ask this, but what are you going to do with the Arkenstone when you find it, because you know that you will find it,” Bard said outright. There was no way to phrase that question any nicer, so he just said it, even though the other dwarf visibly bristled when he mentioned the Arkenstone.

“I want it destroyed. I don’t care how, just as soon as it is found it is brought to Master Baggins and he will find a way to shatter it into a million pieces and bury them somewhere where they will never be seen again. I have fallen prey to the gold sickness once Bard the Bowman. I will not do so again,” Thorin said wisely, and Bard smiled inwardly.

“I trust Master Baggins, and I believe that that plan will work. He is the one to find the Arkenstone when he enters the mountain, and he does not fall prey to the sickness that it contains, so I believe that you may be rid of the Arkenstone once and for all. If you can do that, then Laketown, or as many men as I can rally, will stand behind you.”

The silence that fell over the group was a comfortable one, each person sipping their tea gently and waiting for their clothes to dry. For the first time in weeks, Bilbo had more hope than he had ever had before.

Thorin wanted the Arkenstone destroyed, Bard was willing to stand behind the dwarves. Things were really changing for the better.

Bilbo smiled at his cup of tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably a bit boring but i dont really care because it kinda has to happen and yeah
> 
> also two updates in two days i am on a roll :)
> 
> and, a stat i found out today, 170 people subscribe to this fic! THATS INSANE GUYS THANKYOU SO MUCH FOR CARING ABOUT THIS LIKE OMG YOU GUYS ARE THE GREATEST :)
> 
> come talk to me if you wanna hear all my fic ideas @ belllxrke.tumblr.com


	14. fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they get the weapons and they leave laketown

fourteen

The lord of silver fountains,

The king of carven stone.

The King under the Mountain,

Will come into his own.

The bells shall ring in gladness,

At the mountain king’s return.

But all will fail in sadness,

And the Lake will shine and burn.

Every inhabitant of Laketown knew that prophecy, had grown up hearing it passed down from parent to child. But no member of Laketown ever thought that they would have to be a part of that prophecy coming true.

Bard’s sleep was always filled with dragon fire, of the image of his home burning, of the dragon that flew above it, so determined to reduce the town to a pile of ash. There was no doubt in Bard’s mind that the dragon would be able to do it too, if it wasn’t for him and the Black Arrow.

But all of those dreams were minor, compared to the fear that now racked his body. He had hit Smaug once, in the exact same place as his ancestor had hundreds of years ago. The question that remained now, was could he do it again?

It was a fluke that he managed to even hit the dragon, but now, he was being asked to do it again. People’s lives depended on whether he could hit a dragon out of the sky, with only one chance to get it right. His children’s lives depended on whether he could do it, and he didn’t know if he could. That fear had begun to eat away at him, that he wasn’t good enough or worthy enough to fire that arrow. Everything that happened in the past was a fluke, and he shouldn’t be using that as an example to tell himself that he was worthy to fire that arrow. He didn’t live in a past that never happened. He lived here, and he didn’t think he could hit a dragon out of the sky.

“Are you going to steal weaponry from the Master of Laketown again Master Oakenshield,” Bard inquired.

“I think that is our only option, unless you can magically procure some decent weapons,” Thorin replied, wondering what the Master of Laketown’s reaction to the stealing of weapons was.

“The weapons I procured last time were not up to dwarven standards, so I will refrain from making the same mistake,” Bard said formally, a laugh on the tip of his tongue. The entire company were still sitting in Bard’s house, waiting for the cover of night before they would go out and acquire some weaponry. Legolas wanted to just go out and demand them from the Master, because technically they were all his father’s property because Laketown was inside the Mirkwood Forest’s borders, but Tauriel stopped him.

“You have run away from your father, and you do not know how he would react if he found out you were gathering weapons for the dwarves. I do not think that that would go down well with him,” she reasoned, and he knew that she was right.

“What about if we get caught?” He asked her.

“If Thorin declares himself king and offers them gold for their weapons, then you will not reveal yourself. If he does not, then you will step in, and only if he does not. Do not try to be the bravest one here, for it may not work in your favour,” Tauriel said wisely, and he conceded.

“Okay.” Legolas looked over at the dwarves, who were all gathered round Tilda, who was animatedly telling them a story about her dolls, or so he could gather. To the dwarves’ credit, they all seemed to be very engaged with her story, which appeased the girl.

“And then, Sandra swooped in and saved the day,” she finished, and all the dwarves clapped and whooped, which earned a huge smile and a hug from the girl to each of the dwarves.

Kili, strangely enough, was hanging back, but not talking to Tauriel. He was staring out the window, where the mountain loomed above them all. Thorin understood better than anyone what he was feeling. It was anticipation and fear and happiness and every emotion a dwarf could feel mixed into a bundle, and left to explode in his stomach. It was everything and nothing all at once and the feeling terrified Kili.

He had only felt this feeling once before, and when he felt it, his brother and uncle died. He may have a chance to live it all over again, to try and fix his mistakes, but the thought that maybe he could fail was ever so strong in his mind.

 _The lives of people that I love,_ he thought, _that is the risk. Is it a risk I am willing to take?_

But it was, because he had already taken that risk by signing up to this quest. From the moment he stepped out of his doors and said goodbye, the risks he had taken to get to this point, they were all going to risk the lives of the people he loved. Every action that anyone did in this world had ripples that ran down and impacted everyone, including everything he had ever done.

But the more he thought about it, the more he tossed the idea around in his head that someone he loved could die at any given time, the more he was sure that this was the right decision. Last time they managed to reclaim Erebor, but he wasn’t given a chance to explore what he could do in Erebor and so, maybe that thread of hope about what Erebor could mean to him, that was something that might just be worth fighting for.

“Stop thinking so much, meleth-nin. I can hear your brain whirring from a mile away,” Tauriel said gently, walking up to him, the cup of tea steaming in her hands.

“But what-” he began, but she cut him off.

“But nothing. It is not good to worry about the future. Just worry about this moment, and everything will be alright,” she said wisely and he knew she was right. “The mountain looms over us all, but we should not let it define us. Come, listen to young Tilda’s stories. They are very animated, and quite enchanting.”

“Okay.” He took her hand and walked over to Tilda, who was in the process of explaining the adventure her unicorn had had three nights previous.

***

It was an impatient wait until nightfall, and the tension in the house was so thick you could cut it cleanly in half with a blade. The dwarves were getting impatient, which could be understood as they didn’t have the greatest amount of patience to begin with, and Bilbo was doing his best to make sure that the dwarves didn’t go rushing into a situation that they didn’t understand.

Against Thorin’s wishes, he had donned the Ring and escaped into the day of Laketown, unseen to all. He snuck into the armoury, but he did not take anything, not yet, for he would wait for Thorin’s instructions first.

He knew that Nori had also snuck out at one point, for he was a very good burglar, but Dori’s watchful eye kept him mostly in the house.

But, to their advantage, they had more of a plan now than they had had last time. It would be just the two elves, Bilbo, Nori, Dwalin and Fili. They would be the ones that would sneak in and grab as many weapons as they could carry, the elves darting back and forth across the rooftops to cart them to Bard’s house.

The more people that tried to break in, the more likely it was that they were going to get caught, and even though Thorin knew that he could sway the people of Laketown into helping him with the promise of gold, he would much rather not attract the attention of the Master of Laketown.

As far as Thorin could remember, he was a greasy, fat man, with a love for all things gold. He was a coward too, because he had hid in Laketown when the dragon came to burn it, and died in the process.

“We should go,” Tauriel announced to the company, and the dwarves all looked at her strangely. The sun had barely set, a few streaks of red still peeking over the horizon.

“It is nowhere near dark enough yet,” Fili protested.

“Yes it is, for we will not be getting to the armoury through the streets. There is another way in,” she said excitedly. Simultaneously, everyone in the company had their stomach’s drop about a thousand miles into the centre of the earth, because although Tauriel meant well, that way in would most likely lead to nothing but trouble for them all.

And, surprisingly enough, it did lead to trouble. They were creeping though the sewers again, which was not the nicest place that they could be, in fact, it was probably the worst, but they continued on, desperate to get to their destination as quickly as they could.

“Why did you have to bring us down here Tauriel,” Fili groaned in complaint.

“Because you don’t want to be seen by guards that patrol the streets at night, do you?” she retorted.

“They didn’t see us last time, so why should they see us this time?” Nori asked cockily.

“We need to forget about what happened last time, and focus on what happens this time, because things will go differently just because we have done a few things differently,” she said in response. Nori knew she was right, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have rather walked along the streets, got kidnapped and broke out again to get the weapons.

“Stop your grumbling,” Dwalin said gruffly, kicking Nori in the back. Nori hissed at him, but otherwise, he shut up. Dwalin didn’t expect him to shut up for long, but to his surprise, Nori did not speak another word until they reached the armoury. Guess that was a skill he had picked up in his many years of thieving.

 They creeped slowly through the sewers, Tauriel constantly running ahead with her bow drawn to make sure that there were no guards ahead. Personally, Fili felt that what Tauriel was doing was both ridiculous and necessary. Although it was very unlikely that they would send guards down to the sewers, the Master of Laketown was most likely paranoid enough that that would be something he did.

Thankfully, however, Tauriel did not encounter one single guard on the way to the armoury, until she could hear some whispering above her head when she was crouched underneath the pothole that she would eventually climb through to reach the weapons.

“Shh,” she hissed at them, her finger touching her lips to make sure they got the message. As fast as lighting, or probably faster, she was up, out of the hole, the pothole cover barely even moving.

There were a few grunts from the surface, and the sound of metal on metal, before the pothole cover opened again, revealing Tauriel.

“It’s safe to come up,” she said, “Probably.”

The dwarves and Legolas climbed out of the hole to see that there were four guards, all unconscious, lying on the floor. This unexpected development meant that the moment they ran with the weapons, they would have to make a run for it to the boat that they would take to the mountain.

As much as they would like to stay with Bard until Durin’s Day, it would be preferable that the Master of Laketown never knew that they were here in the first place.

“Hurry,” Legolas whispered, holding his arms out so that the dwarves could pile weapons into his hands. The moment he judged that he could not carry anymore, he darted out of the window with some complex footwork that the dwarves could never copy in a million years, so fast that even Dwalin couldn’t judge what steps he took.

“Bloody elves,” Dwalin muttered, gathering more weapons and storing them on himself in any place he could find. Fili and Nori were copying him, Nori a lot more adept at it than Fili or Dwalin for that matter. Another little thing he would have picked up from his thieving days.

Tauriel had many swords, axes and war-hammers in her arms, and she quickly darted out of the window as well, flying over the rooftops and back to Bard’s house. No sooner than she’d left, Legolas reappeared, arms vacant of the weapons he had before.

“If you can move that fast, then why did we not take that route?” Fili grumbled.

“Because I doubt you can move as swiftly as I can,” Tauriel said, the statement lacking any malice. Fili grumbled a bit more before deciding that he had the most amount of weapons he could carry, nodding at Tauriel.

She bent down and gathered a few more weapons, and addressed the dwarves. “I trust you know your way back.”

“Good luck,” Fili said, nodding.

“Good luck.”

The dwarves slipped down the pothole while Tauriel slipped out the window, Nori making sure to cover the pothole behind him. After that, they drew their weapons and sprinted down the dank sewer, needing to reach Bard’s house as soon as they could.

When they got there and had pulled themselves out of the toilet, they dried off as quickly as they could before handing over a few weapons to the rest of the company. Then, they ran.

The boat was a fair distance away, but there was nothing they could do about it. Bard did not dare come with them, for if he was found out that he helped them, there was nothing he could do about the dragon, and he could not sentence Laketown to that fate.

Legolas was also going to stay behind, to take the fall for the missing weapons, because there was no-one else that could. Yes, he would risk his father’s fury, but he had done enough to provoke that already, and what was a bit more to add to the collection. These dwarves were his kin now, not the elves. They accepted him because he betrayed Thranduil, and because he risked his own family to help them escape. They would give their support if his father came for him.

He sat calmly on a rooftop, hearing the shouts of guards, orcs and dwarves mingling together as he watched the dwarves, Bilbo and Tauriel get smaller and smaller on their little boat. He could see Bard in his window, with Bain, Sigrid and Tilda all surrounding him. The fear in Bard’s eyes was evident, but Legolas trusted that Bard would do the right thing. He had heard Thorin, felt the assuredness that he would do what he could to make sure that he did not fall prey to the gold sickness again, to make sure it did not claim him or any of his people.

Eventually, the fog claimed the little boat and Legolas’ heart dropped a thousand stories.

“Good luck mellon-nin. I fear you will need it,” he whispered to the night, feeling the tip of an arrow touch the back of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> i go back to school on tuesday, so updates may slow a bit, although i really want to get this story finished asap because i have so many other stories i want to write!
> 
> i hate having two wips going at the same time, because i feel that the quality of the story drops when i am focused on two things at the same time, and i really dont want that happening.
> 
> while i have said that, i have five wips im desperate to write.
> 
> 1) game of thrones prison au  
> 2) the 100 zombie apocalypse au  
> 3) the hobbit country fair au  
> 4) game of thrones gang wars au  
> 5) the 100 lexa and clarke after 2x16 in the forest au
> 
> which one would you guys most like to see, because i am interested to see what some of you would most like to see from me :)
> 
> i will probably be doing some more prompt fills so if you want one, just message me on tumblr
> 
> ilysm to all of you who read this :)
> 
> talk to me on tumblr @ belllxrke.tumblr.com


	15. fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they end up at the mountain

fifteen

There was nowhere for Legolas to run, he knew that deep down inside. But his instincts were still yelling at him to get out of there, to kill all the men and run, even though that wasn’t possible.

There were about seven men surrounding him, three with bows, four with swords. There was at least another four arrows pointed on him from positions around, hidden in buildings and so forth, and he could hear the Master of Laketown and his assistant Alfrid walking towards him on the path below.

He knew they were coming from the moment he sat down on the rooftop, but if his presence there would lure the men away from Tauriel, Bilbo and the dwarves, he would do it, for less men would die that way.

He allowed himself to be chained and lead down to the

“And who are you, thief?” Alfrid spat in his face. Beside him, the Master of Laketown looked smug, which was not right. He was the one who should feel smug, considering that they just captured a prince that could order their destruction with a few words, and they should be the ones bowing at his feet.

There were risks about using his title here, because the moment he uttered his name, his father would know and would come after him. He did not know his father’s opinion on dwarves, only that Thorin Oakenshield despised elves, particularly his father. Maybe, if he was very lucky, his father would not share Thorin’s opinion.

But he was not so lucky in his life, and when the guard behind him prodded him with an arrow and demanded, “Well,” then he realised he had no other option.

“You would do well not to rush me. I am Prince Legolas of the Mirkwood Forest, son of Thranduil,” He said cockily, and the weapons dropped immediately.

“What?” Alfrid stuttered out.

 “You heard me,” he said cockily, stepping forward. “And if I’m not mistaken, everything in Laketown, because it falls on the land of the Mirkwood, belongs to my father, which means, it belongs to me. So why would you be pointing weapons on your Prince?”

“We didn’t know it was you, your highness. We apologise profusely for any offence we have caused,” the Master of Laketown said as politely as he could, but Legolas just scoffed at him.

He was coming up with plans on the spot, anything that could buy Tauriel and the dwarves more time, all the while evacuating the people of Laketown and their people. His stomach was doing flips at the thought of his father and what he would think of this, but that was of no consequence now. He would deal with his father later. These people came first now.

“You might need to find another way to make it up to me,” he said as calmly as he could manage.

“And that is?” Alfrid prompted rudely.

“Evacuate your people. A dragon is coming.”

***

Thorin could see the mountain clearly from here, now that they were approaching the beach. His heart was in his throat, because this could go so many different ways from here on out. It all depended now on him, on whether he would fall to the gold sickness again or be strong and tell himself that he wouldn’t.

It was all down to that.

Bilbo was thinking that too, but he didn’t think it was down to Thorin and his willpower, not last time at least. Last time, he had not been thinking so much about the gold sickness, instead intent on reclaiming Erebor. At the beginning it was all for his people, but every step closer to Erebor he got, the more it became about the gold that was stored in it.

Thorin could not see the sickness coming, and the company only realised it was there when it was too late, when there was nothing to be done about it other than sit back and watch Thorin lead himself into ruin. It was heartbreaking and terrifying all at the same time, but there was nothing any of them could have done to stop it.

And it wasn’t about Thorin’s will power either. He was losing his mind, his sanity, and with that went his will. He just didn’t pick up on the changes, just like the rest of them didn’t.

But now, because he was consciously thinking about the gold sickness, and telling himself that he would not fall prey to it like he did last time, Bilbo believed that they stood a fighting chance. And the responsibility to help Thorin get through that fell on all of them, because they were his Company. Bilbo was his company. Tauriel and Legolas were now part of that Company. And they would destroy the Arkenstone the moment they found it, whether Thorin approved or not. It was the only way to stop the gold sickness, to destroy it at its heart.

The boat began to beach itself and Dwalin jumped out of the boat from his position at the front to drag it up further, to beach it so far inland that it couldn’t un-beach itself when the tide came in.

They would camp here for the night, and then spend an impatient day climbing and waiting for the light of the moon to hit the walls of Erebor, when the door would open and Bilbo would enter. When they would let Smaug out from the gates and trust that Bard would be there, just like he said he would be.

Bilbo would find the Arkenstone afterwards, and only once it had been found would Thorin be allowed to really explore the caverns. He could go in there, but he wasn’t allowed to seek out the Arkenstone.

And that was Thorin’s plan, not anyone else’s. He was the one most determined to make sure that he never suffered from the gold sickness again, let alone any other king that came after him. He trusted Dwalin, who would cover his back when they were fighting Smaug, to shake him out of any gold sickness he could suffer with. He trusted the rest of the company, reluctantly including the elves, to shake him out of it too. They had gone through a lot with him, and they would not fail him now, not in his darkest hour.

“Are you ready for this laddie,” Dwalin whispered gruffly to him.

“Even if I wasn’t, there is nothing I can do to stop it this far in. We have waited a hundred years for this, so we shall do it for our people, nothing more and nothing less,” Thorin whispered back wisely as he hopped off the boat and onto the beach.

“There are no decent clearings on the mountainside, so we will camp here for the night, and begin the climb in the morning,” he ordered the company, and the dwarves began to lay out their bedrolls and doing all the tasks that came with setting up a new camp.

They were all quiet as the sun set, the light filtering out so that all that remained was coming from the fire in the centre of the circle that they had formed. Most of the dwarves were fiddling with something or another, grass or leaves or weapons, nerves abuzz in all of their stomachs. The mountain was something that was looming over them all, now more than ever.

Ori was lying with his head in Fili’s lap, and both Thorin and Dori couldn’t care less about proper behaviour at the moment. Tomorrow, either one of them could die, anyone here could die, so it wasn’t really the place to be fussing about manners, even though underneath Dori’s skin there was the prickling sensation whenever Nori did something vaguely inappropriate with any of the customers.

No-one could work up the nerve to speak a word, because of what was looming over them. There was no-one who wasn’t feeling the weight of what was about to come, about what was about to happen. There was no longer any excitement about it, because they all knew what was to come, and it was all bad things. There was nothing good to come, not if they didn’t change it.

Bilbo wanted to claw at his throat, because there was so much he wanted to say to the company, how proud of them he was and how much he loved them, but there wasn’t any words he could think of that would express how he felt. They were all too mediocre and had too many limits. There might be a word in Khuzdul, but he didn’t know enough of it to use any words like that.

Maybe when this was all over, he would get some lessons, so he could be useful to Thorin. He had made up his mind that if Thorin did not die this time, he would stay in Erebor. The only reason he didn’t stay last time was because the entire mountain was full of reminders that Thorin existed, and every corner he turned was another reminder that he had failed, that he had lost his love in a battle that he should have survived.

Thorin, on the other hand, wanted to kiss Bilbo senseless before he went in, but unlike Fili or Ori, he was a king, and he must go about courting Bilbo the proper way. He could not set a bad example to his people.

He wanted to tell him that he loved him before he laid eyes on the Arkenstone again, before his mind fell to the dragon sickness. Although he kept telling himself that he would not fall to it, something told him that he would, that it was a fixed point in time and that there was nothing that he could do to prevent it. That he was doomed from the start, just like his father before him.

If Bilbo knew, he would tell him just to snap out of it, to man up and to realise that that was all a load of shit that Thorin had come up, just so that he could be his negative and brooding self. That was just something that you couldn’t stamp out of Thorin then, because his heart was what was telling him that he was going to fail, and that was such a negative thing that Thorin didn’t think he could top it with anything else he had ever done in his life.

He didn’t notice it, but instead of getting into their bedrolls, the company all fell asleep like this, no-one on watch and no-one apart. They were all together, just like they had been for the past eight months, all leading up to this one moment.

Thorin opened his eyes to see Bilbo sleeping on his shoulder and the sun rising over the horizon, pinks and reds starting to seep through to the new day. He couldn’t move though, because Master Baggins deserved to sleep for just a little longer. He had a long day ahead of him. They all did.

“Uugh,” Bilbo muttered from his shoulder. Thorin did not dare move a muscle, for anyone else waking up while him and Bilbo were in this compromising position was akin to death, mainy because of all the teasing he would endure for weeks after.

“Master Baggins,” he whispered softly. “Master Baggins.”

“Uuh, what,” Bilbo groaned out, his eyes remaining firmly shut. He was very comfortable wherever he was, and his pillow was warm, which was always a good thing. There was a crick in his neck though, which meant he had probably fallen asleep on his armchair or…

Bilbo bolted upright, because that was not an armchair he had fallen asleep on. That was Thorin’s shoulder. This was mortifying. He glanced around the circle of dwarves and saw that none of them appeared awake, well, none of them had their eyes open. For all he knew, they could all be awake and listening into what was happening.

“Uuhh,” Bilbo stuttered out, his face turning a brighter red than Hamfast Gamgee’s prized tomatoes in the spring time. “I’m so so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about Master Baggins. I hope you slept well,” Thorin said politely, trying to mask the fact that his insides were doing somersaults at the fact that his One spent the night exactly where he should be, which was as close to Thorin as he could possibly get.

It had never crossed his mind before now that hobbits may not experience One’s the same way that dwarves did, in the way where a dwarf’s One was the missing piece of his soul that he had unconsciously yearned for his entire life. Thorin had only heard about hobbits a few times throughout his years before he met Bilbo, and only then was it really necessary to know about them. Now, he wished that he had followed his father’s wish and read up on them, because it would have proved useful.

But, in his other reading adventures, he had come across a few instances where a dwarf’s one was a man or an elf. Never a hobbit, but it was still a good sign that having a different species for a One was possible. Strangely enough, however, all of the dwarves who had their One’s come from different species were of Durin’s line. Kili’s One was an elf, his One was a hobbit, and they were both of Durin’s Line.

Was Durin’s bane that his One was someone he could not marry, like an elf or a man?

Thorin wondered all of this as he rolled up his bedroll and tidied up his pack, making sure he had shoved everything he could in there. They had a long hike ahead of them, up the daunting mountain, if they were going to make it to the door by the time the moon rose tonight.

They walked in groups of two, slowly and steadily. Bilbo didn’t even stop to notice the half fallen down statue that was blocking their path. Instead, he just jumped swiftly over it and continued walking. Thorin could sense his nerves, and he understood, but something was off.

It was like his nerves were more intense than just the thought that _I might die in the next couple of hours_ nerves.

“Is everything okay?” Thorin asked him, catching up to Bilbo with a few well placed steps.

“I’ll be fine,” Bilbo said, trying to blow him off. But Thorin wasn’t swayed that easily, and would not give in until Bilbo told him what was wrong. That was what a One was supposed to do, was supposed to share feelings and all, something Thorin had admittedly never been good at. But he would try now, for Bilbo’s sake more than his own.

“Are you sure?” Thorin pestered.

“No, no I am not sure, okay! I’m just worried about Smaug and you and the company and you and… I don’t know if I can do this Thorin.” Bilbo’s voice was small and timid, and to be quite honest, Thorin had no clue how to comfort him. He knew how to be a leader and a ruler, but not a lover. So, in particular Thorin style, he went with the battle speech closest to what a lover might say.

“Of course you can do this Bilbo. You’ve proved yourself time and time again that you are the only burglar for this job. You have saved our lives countless times and have managed to actually get us here on time, which is a feat in itself. You have resisted the evil of the Ring and talked your way out of being burnt to a crisp by a dragon, so you should have nothing to fear, although I know that it doesn’t work like that. But overall, you redeemed me, and no-one but a very skilled burglar could have done that,” Thorin said in a quiet voice.

Bilbo had no clue what Thorin meant when he said the last thing, but his heart still soared. That was most likely as close to an admission of love that he would ever get out of Thorin, and it was all he had to hold on to. Maybe it would be that that would get him through the trials to come.

“We’re here,” Ori called from the front, as he squeezed Fili’s hand.

“Are you ready for this Bilbo,” Bofur asked him.

“No. But I don’t have a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey please don't pummel me with dead fruit for not updating for ages and ages :)
> 
> life has begun to get in the way with me starting school again a week ago, so now updates will be less frequent :(
> 
> you may see i have started a GoT prison au so if you wanna check that out that will be great :)
> 
> once i've finished this, i will be starting a hobbit county fair au so you should all get excited for that :)))
> 
> my plan is to write two wips at a time from now on until i get my list of wips i wanna write done :)
> 
> thanks for sticking with this story and im sorry if you feel like its dragging on for a bit. i promise that we will see the dragon next chapter :)
> 
> ilysm


	16. sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they meet the dragon and the dragon escapes

sixteen

The tunnel into the mountain was long and winding, and Bilbo honestly was doubting that it would ever end, and if he would ever get to the dragon. But he did, and when he stepped inside the chamber it terrified him beyond measure to realise that he was about to stare down a dragon, to talk it out of burning him yet again.

The Ring in his pocket was both a comfort and the source of his fear, because as he walked through the tunnel, he had put together the realisation that the Ring and the Arkenstone were made out of the same curse, one that corrupted and twisted a person so that their deepest fears were realised.

He just had to focus long enough to make sure that he wasn’t corrupted by it, and then he could drop it over the edge and watch it burn in the firey depths of Mount Doom.

He could see the light of Erebor at the end of the tunnel, and as he stepped into the treasury again, he gasped. It was just as he remembered it, with the treasures stacked up, looking like they would reach the sky.

Just underneath those piles, Bilbo knew, was Smaug, and although he could not see him, he knew that he was there. He had slept there for hundreds of years, and Bilbo knew that it was time to wake him up.

He reached into his pocket and slipped the Ring on, feeling the colours around him brighten. He still did not understand why the Ring was behaving like this, because he could not hear it whispering to him, and it did not dim his senses like it did before. Instead, it made everything seem brighter, but the brightness was almost overpowering, and the longer he had it on, the more he wanted to take it off.

That was a new feeling, one that he didn’t associate with the Ring. It was designed to tempt you with the things you want most, and taunt you with your deepest fears. Instead, it did nothing but make you want to take it off.

As he crept up the towers of gold, he could feel Smaug move underneath him, and had to lean down and steady himself as the gold underneath him shifted.

“Well, thief. I smell you. I hear your breath. I feel your air. Where are you? Where are you?” Smaug’s head came into Bilbo’s view, and the sound of clattering gold was almost too much for him as the dragon rose up, climbing up, up and over the gold that had once engulfed him entirely.

“Come. Don’t be shy. Step into the light. There is something about you. Something you carry. Something made of gold and fire. Something far more precious to things far darker than me,” Smaug crooned as he paced around the treasury, looking for Bilbo. The Ring was beginning to feel heavier and heavier on his finger and so Bilbo slipped it off, half-heartedly hiding behind a column.

Smaug stopped, and Bilbo’s heart began to race. He knew that Smaug had spotted him, and sent a prayer up above to whoever was listening to ask if he could survive this. He may have done this before, but that made him no less scared. “There you are, thief, in the shadows.”

Smaug’s voice was smooth and velvety, and just tempted him to walk out. He took a deep breath in and stepped out into the light, taking in Smaug for the first time in sixty odd years.

“I did not come to steal from you, O Smaug the Unassessably Wealthy.” Bilbo began, his heart in his throat. “I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you really were as great as the old tales make you out to be.”

“And are they?” Smaug asked, more curiosity in his voice than he knew.

“Truly, the tales and songs fall utterly short of your enormity, O Smaug the Stupendous.” Bilbo had chosen the flattery route yet again, which he knew was going to be a bad idea, but yet the words just seemed right, as they rolled cleanly off of his tongue.

“Do you think flattery will keep you alive?” Smaug taunted.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Bilbo stuttered out, even though his gut was telling him that flattery would keep him alive, or at the very least buy him some more time.

“No indeed. You seem very familiar with my name, but I don’t remember smelling your kind before. Who are you, and where do you come from, may I ask?” Shit. The conversation he had had with Smaug the last time was fading from his mind faster than ever, most likely because he was now rewriting that history with every second that passed.

“I’m from under the hill?” It was the first excuse that came to mind, and he had just blurted it out without any thought whatsoever.

“Underhill?”

“And under hills and over mountains, my path has led. And through the air, for I am the one who walks unseen.” Yes Bilbo, giving yourself fancy titles is really going to work against a dragon.

“Impressive. What else do you claim to be?” When Smaug said this, the pit at the bottom of his stomach began to grow. He had a bad feeling about what was going to happen next, because Smaug seemed much too impressed with his fake credentials.

“Luck-wearer. And riddle-maker,” Bilbo blurted out, his mind whirring a thousand miles a minute.

“Lovely titles; go on,” Smaug prompted.

“Barrel-rider,” Bilbo almost questioned, for that was a terrible title, if he said so himself. Who would call themselves a barrel-rider?

“Barrels? Now that is interesting. And what about your little dwarf friends, what are they hiding?” Bilbo’s blood instantly ran cold. Smaug must have smelt them out, which meant that he knew what was about to happen, and he was also stalling to make Bilbo feel more comfortable before he roasted him to a crisp.

“Dwarves? You must be mistaken. There are no dwarves here, at least not in my party,” he stuttered out, trying to cover for his Company outside.

“Oh no, I don’t think so barrel-rider. There are elves out there too. They have sent you in here to do their dirty work while they sit around outside,” Smaug said, teasing and taunting him with information that he was not supposed to have. Bilbo had to take a deep breath before he spoke to Smaug again, or else he was so sure he would pass out at any second from fear.

“Truly, you are mistaken O Smaug, Chiefest and Greatest Calamity,” he said, voice quivering under the pressure.

“You have nice manners, for a thief and a liar!” Smaug spat. “Did you think I would not notice? I know the smell and taste of dwarf. No-one better. It is the gold. They are drawn to treasure, like flies to dead flesh. Did you think I didn’t know this day was coming? When a pack of canting dwarves would come crawling back to the mountain?”

Smaug paced around the room, head held high, and it took all of Bilbo’s strength not to slip the Ring onto his fingers so that he could be sure that he was safe. He was hiding again, behind another pillar, and even though he didn’t remember how he got there, it didn’t matter now. He only vaguely knew where Smaug was in relation to him, and that was only because of the massive amount of gold in the room. He could hear it falling around him, and every time it got louder, it seemed that his heart just began to beat faster and faster.

“The King under the Mountain is dead. I took his throne. Ate his people like a wolf among sheep. Kill where I wish, when I wish. My armour is iron. No blade can pierce me,” Smaug taunted.  

“No blade, but a black arrow can,” Bilbo whispered loudly, but covered his mouth only a few seconds after he had said it. Luckily, Smaug did not seem to hear him.  

“Oakenshield, that filthy dwarvish usurper. He sent you in here for the Arkenstone, didn’t he?” Bilbo could sense that Smaug knew what the Arkenstone was capable of, and how much it corrupted people. Maybe that stone was the reason that he attacked the mountain in the first place, because it had corrupted him just as much as it had corrupted Thorin.

“No he did not,” Bilbo denied from the shadows.

“Don’t bother denying it. I guessed his foul purpose some time ago. But it matters not. Oakenshield’s quest will fail. The darkness is coming, and it will spread to every corner of the land. You have been used, thief in the shadows. You were only ever means to an end. The coward Oakenshield has weighed your life and found it worth nothing.” No. That couldn’t be right. Thorin had confessed to him something that was almost as close as love before he entered the mountain, and as the words Smaug spoke really sunk in with him, he held onto them.

“No I have not,” Bilbo said, unsure of what he meant.

“What did he promise you? A share of the treasure? As if it was his to give. I will not part with a coin of this treasure. Not one piece of it.”

Smaug paced the room threateningly, still not being able to find Bilbo, who was dashing and darting through the maze of pillars and towers that made up this room. He knew that he would not be able to find the entrance again, but if everything went to plan, it would not be necessary to find it again. Thorin and the others had to come in and rescue him, and then the doors would open, and Smaug would fall over Laketown once again.

“My teeth are swords, my claws are spears. My wings are a hurricane!” Smaug lept up and flapped his wings wildly, revealing a loose scale that Bilbo was quick to identify.

“The black arrow found its mark, and it will again,” he whispered, and the dragon’s head whipped around to face him.

“What did you say, little thief?” It spat at him.

“That your reputation precedes you, Smaug the Tyrannical, and that you have no equal on this earth,” Bilbo said, again going with the flattery route. Smaug let out a croaked sound, something that sounded like a laugh.

“I am almost tempted to let you take it, if only to see Oakenshield suffer, watch it destroy him, watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad.” The dragon paused for a moment, and Bilbo’s heart began to beat even louder. He knew what was coming, and reached his hand into his pocket to fiddle with the Ring.

“But I think not. Tell me thief, how do you choose to die?”

The roar of Smaug’s voice was deafening, and Bilbo could feel the heat of the flames as they passed through his body. The colours were so bright and vivid, it was almost blinding to watch them. He dashed up the mountain as fast as he could go, noticing that Smaug’s head was turning rapidly to try to find out where the noise was coming from.

He didn’t know where he was running to, only that he was exhausted. The rational part of his brain told him that he could stop and take a breath, but there was a dragon behind him, and the other side of his brain was questioning whether that was a good idea or not.

Eventually he found himself behind a whole cluster of archways, no dwarves in sight. Smaug was whispering in the background, asking himself where the little thief was, but Bilbo paid no mind to him. He needed to find the dwarves and Tauriel first, and this maze was a complete mystery to him. Maybe Nori should have come in, just so something like this didn’t happen.

 _Listen to the rational part of your brain Bilbo,_ he thought to himself. _Just tip-toe quietly and Smaug won’t notice you. That way, you’ll find the dwarves in no time._

And as he crept around the corner, there was a flash of pointy, mangled red and intricate grey. There were two dwarves who matched that description, and they were people he needed right now.

He ran up to them, tapped them both on the shoulder, and slipped the Ring back into his pocket.

“You’re alive!” Dori cried, like the mother hen everyone knew he was. Bilbo smiled half-heartedly at him.

“Not for much longer, we all won’t be. We need to move, and now. There will be no fussing about trying to kill him. But we best hope Bard is ready to receive a dragon, or else Laketown is doomed.” Bilbo replied, trying to keep his mind off of the bargeman.

“It’ll be fine Bilbo.” Nori said, trying to comfort him awkwardly.

“Where are the others?”

“We’re all in groups of two, looking for the entrance. It’s not like any of us remember how to get there, even Thorin, so that’s priority. I think he’s even skipping his attempt to kill the dragon which Tauriel filled us in on when we were outside, so that’s good.” Dori rambled.

“Okay. Tell the other’s that I’ll look around where they can’t.”

Bilbo didn’t even wait around to hear the two dwarf’s sound of approval, instead opting to slide the ring cleanly on his finger and dash off to find that door. It wasn’t as if it had occurred to him when he was here before to remember where the door was, because he didn’t think he was ever returning to Erebor. Back then, there were too many memories of a love that he failed to save, but now, it had potential.

To be something else to him, something that he almost had with Bag End.

The mountain was a labyrinth of walls that seemed to look exactly the same, intricate carvings on them that just seemed to blend into one. But even though it was so easy to get lost in, it was still beautiful. There was so much time that was painted on these walls, so much history, and Bilbo understood why Thorin wanted to get it back in the first place, because to begin with, it was all about a show of strength. It was saying to anyone who saw these walls that the dwarves had been around since the dawn of it all, and even if you took Erebor from them, they would still remain strong.

How many times Smaug had seen this wall, Bilbo would never know, but he still hoped that he had caught a glimpse of it, and realised that the dwarves would eventually come back for their mountain.

There was a loud dragging sound that echoed throughout the hallways, and Bilbo had to cover his ears for a second. What was that? There was that faint glimmer of hope that it was the door, but something was telling him that maybe it was something different. But what could be that loud, unless…

Was the Ring enhancing sound too?

As Bilbo dashed through the corridor, making a sharp right and looking hopelessly for something that he hadn’t seen before, he pondered over what the Ring was doing. It should have dulled all his senses, not brightened them. Why was it doing this?

He looked around, turned right again, and stopped suddenly. There was something out of the corner of his eye that he had seen before, when he chose one corridor over the other, there was always something in the other corridor, something bright and ethereal, and that could only be seen out of the corner of his eye.

That’s why he’d been making no progress, because of the Ring. He had just been running around in circles, going right, and right and right again, which lead to no-where but where he started from. It was time to turn left for once.

He walked back through the corridor and walked straight ahead into a new corridor, where he saw Bofur make a left around the corner. He was about to yell for him, when he remembered that Bofur wouldn’t be able to hear him because of the Ring.

Bilbo approached where he saw Bofur before very slowly, because something in his gut was telling him that this was a bad idea and that something was off. And when Bofur appeared around the corner again, he realised what it was.

There was something in this mountain, whether it be the dragon-sickness or the Arkenstone or the dragon himself, which was influencing the Company’s subconscious and telling them that at every intersection that one of them came too, they had to turn right. And if you only ever turned right, you would just be walking in circles.

He slipped the Ring off and put it into his pocket, beginning to chase after Bofur. He had gotten to the first right when he realised that if he just stayed right where he was, then Bofur would come right to him.

“Master Baggins!” Bofur’s cheery voice came echoing around the corridors, and Bilbo looked behind him to the see the dwarf walking towards him, a smile on his face. “I was beginning to think that I wouldn’t see another soul ever again!”

But Bofur’s smile dropped almost instantly when he realised how grave Bilbo’s face was. “Bofur, there is something wrong with this mountain. Although you didn’t realise it, you’ve just been walking in circles, turning right, and right again.”

Bofur pondered what Bilbo had just told him, retracing his steps, and remembering how he thought that all of the walls in this place looked uncannily similar. “Shit,” Bofur whispered under his breath.

“Yeah. Once you’ve been cracked out of it though, I don’t think it will work again. See if you can find the others, tell them what they’re doing. Afterwards, meet me at the doorway. Thorin should know how to open it.” Bilbo was about to dash away again, when something crossed his mind.

“Bofur?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Will do, Master Baggins.”

***

It took a bloody long while for them all to get to the door, all thirteen dwarves, an elf and a hobbit. If Bilbo peeked through the gap in the doorway, he could just see the faintest hint of red on the horizon. The sun was rising, and it was rising fast.

“We have to get this door open,” Tauriel panted, hand clutching her side as she leaned over, trying desperately to catch her breath.

“No shit,” Dwalin muttered.

“There’s no time for that now. We need to get you all cranking these.” Thorin pointed to two exceptionally large cranks that were on either side of the doors.

“Where are you dwarves? Little thief?” Smaug’s voice echoed down the hallway, followed by billowing footsteps that seemed to shake the entire mountain. A chill ran down Bilbo’s spine. They didn’t have much time to get these doors open.

Thorin seemed to understand the urgency that came with this, and just began dishing out orders. For the first time, Bilbo really saw what it was like to be a ruler. Who Thorin was, was all defined by the people that he lead and here now, was a prime example of that. This was who Thorin was as a leader, and this was why Bilbo fell in love with him in the first place.

And he stood there, waiting and watching, as the doors slowly pushed themselves open, to reveal the beautiful pinks and oranges and reds that were spreading across the sky. He could see Laketown from here, a town that was once covered in those same oranges, except those oranges were the colour of destruction, not beauty.

 _Please Bard, please be ready for the dragon,_ Bilbo begged. _Please._

“Stupid dwarves,” came Smaug’s answer and there he went, up into the sky.

Every single person here began to pray, because it was out of their hands now whether the people of Laketown lived or died. Now, they had to play the waiting game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi *ducks behind a crate and prays you don't throw rotten food at me*
> 
> its been a month and im so so sorry but I just didn't have much motivation to write this and then mid-terms happened and well...
> 
> im so so sorry i hope you arent mad
> 
> ill try to be more frequent but don't count on it 
> 
> sorry again
> 
> ily guys xo


	17. seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothing happens except the dwarves find out that the dragons dead

seventeen

There was no fire this time, just an arrow that sailed cleanly through the air, carrying with it the hope of the entire Laketown. Bard had just fired the one shot they had at killing Smaug, and it had been a torturous few seconds as he squeezed his eyes tight and prayed that it had hit him.

The only answer he got was a loud thump on the ground that seemed to shake the entire earth.

And for the second time in his life, he had killed a dragon.

It took Bard a few seconds to come back to reality, as he took a few deep breaths to try to calm his nerves. Legolas stood beside him, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. He was so much like the other elves, ethereal, but in this moment Bard knew that it would be impossible not to show emotion, because something that he had feared was now no longer a threat.

Smaug was dead. For him, this day could be counted as the first day of the rest of his life, because. This day had hope, and it was hope that Bard would never forget.

The sun had fully risen now, and it was a new d

“Your children are safe bowman. You will find them on your barge on the river outside Laketown.” And with those words, a flood of relief washed over Bard, and the weight he didn’t even know he was carrying lifted off his shoulders.

“How on earth did you manage to convince the Master to have the people evacuate?”

“There was no need for any convincing. This land belongs to my father, and so he has to do as I say or risk my father’s wrath. Although, I do not think that I will be able to do that much longer, because I have disobeyed my father’s command, and he will not accept me after this.” Although his face was expressionless, Bard knew the signs of melancholy that Legolas showed. The twitching hands were a dead giveaway, because any half decent archer couldn’t have any sort of twitch in their fingers.

“Thank-you Legolas,” Bard said, staring at the horizon blankly. There was nothing left to say to each other now, but thank-you and goodbye.

“It has been a pleasure bow-man,” Legolas replied, and before Bard could even turn around, he was gone, darting across the rooftops gracefully.

Bard didn’t stay standing on that rooftop for very long, instead opting to make his way down the building as fast as he could. He didn’t manage to do that very quickly, because he was just a slow human, but he did it as fast as he could manage. Even though he believed Legolas, nothing was worth the relief he would feel when he laid eyes on his kids.

As he climbed down the building and navigated his way through the wreckage of Laketown, it began to sink in that this was over. That he had killed Smaug yet again, and saved Laketown.

But he wasn’t a hero. Not yet. The only way to be a hero now was to prevent Thorin Oakenshield from ever laying eyes on the Arkenstone. That way, he would never need to rally the men to fight for him, and he would never lead them to their death. And he could do this, because he had done it before.

“DAD!”

Bard spun around and saw Bain charging towards him, his hands outstretched. Once before, Bain thought that it wasn’t very grown up to hug his dad, but after a crisis, he could make an exception.

“Bain. Oh Bain.” Bard clutched Bain like a lifeline, because this time it was. His only son was alive, but straight after the sudden burst of relief had faded, his mind fluttered instantly to his daughters. 

“Have you seen Sigrid or Tilda?” Bard said, trying to keep the panic from flooding into his voice.

“They’re on the riverbank setting up a medical tent with some of the older women. I’ll take you to them, come on,” Bain said, relief in his voice, as he clutched his father’s hand.

There was a bright future ahead for the people of Laketown, Bard knew that much. But first, there was a raven he needed to send to reassure thirteen anxious dwarves and an elf. That way, the future he envisioned could really start.  

***

On the side of the mountain however, everything was tense. There was no news of Smaug, but every dwarf knew that there wasn’t going to be news for a while. Bard’s first priority was his family, and each and every dwarf here knew that if they were in Bard’s position, their priority would be their family as well. But even though they knew it, that didn’t mean that they were happy about it.

The tension in the front of the mountain could cut glass, and everyone knew it. But they were reduced to just twiddling their thumbs and hoping that good news could come soon. Nobody liked the waiting game, but it was a game that everyone had to play at one point or another.

Bombur had constructed a makeshift fire from nowhere, pulling pots and pans from the wreckage of Erebor. But when he had retrieved them, there had been a slight issue. No-one had noticed how long Bombur had been gone before Bilbo remembered that he had just been walking in circles in Erebor before, and that Bombur was probably doing the exact same thing.

But instead of being risky and sending someone in, Tauriel untied one of the ropes that the dwarves used to open the door and tied it to Bilbo instead, guiding him inside the mountain. He returned a few moments later with Bombur who was carrying a whole load of pots and pans and looking very confused in general, which made Bilbo very confused.

There was something seriously wrong with Erebor now. Bilbo’s gut was telling him that it had something to do with the Arkenstone and that this whole labyrinth thing was being caused by the Arkenstone, but he hadn’t quite figured it out yet. There were still a few puzzle pieces that were missing from the puzzle, and without them, he wouldn’t be able to see the big picture.

Kili was sleeping fitfully on Tauriel’s lap, and would wake every once in a while covered in a glistening sweat, before returning to his position and trying to sleep once more. Tauriel did not complain, instead just stroked his hair and prayed to all the gods she knew of to make the news happy, more for his sake than hers. She couldn’t bear to see him die again.

Fili rested his head on Ori’s shoulder and watched as Ori’s knitting needles clicked and clacked silently, watching the ball of yarn slowly shrink and form row after row of a scarf or a beanie or something; Fili couldn’t tell.

And Thorin stood broodingly next to Bilbo, keeping some sort of silent watch over him. Bilbo would complain about it if he was in any state to, say that he was a grown man and could take care of himself and that Thorin should be taking care of the rest of his company, but Thorin’s presence reassured him that maybe everything would be okay this time.

“Stew anyone?” Bombur said, breaking the silence, and his question was greeted with many hearty grins that were filled with hunger and exhaustion. These dwarves had been stretched to breaking point, and they needed something to reassure them and make sure that they were okay. This time, Bombur’s stew would have to do.

And do it did, because suddenly, everyone felt more awake. Even Kili managed a few spoonfuls of stew before he returned to his sleep. And suddenly Bilbo understood why he was sleeping so much. It was the universes way of making up for that poisoned arrow that he took last time he was in this universe. He was feeling the effects of the poison, although this time it was to a lesser extent.

And so they sat on the side of the mountain, just watching and waiting for any sign of news.

“Thorin look!” Fili said, sitting up sharply. A raven swooped and soared over the sky, and every dwarf began to become more alert, even with the cloud of exhaustion that was over them. The bird didn’t stop though, instead it kept swooping over the dwarves before whatever it was holding dropped gently into Thorin’s hands.

“A dragon scale!” Thorin whispered, amazed.

All around him, the whoops and cheers began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that this is super short but in the next chapter there will be a time jump so it had to end here sorry lol


	18. eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> life in the mountain for eleven months

eighteen

It was only the company in the mountain when they began, and for eleven long perilous months, it would just be them, slowly working their way through the rubble to clear out settlements for the hundreds of thousands of dwarves that were flocking back to the mountain.

And if Bilbo was honest, that was probably the most fun he had ever had in his entire life.

Yes, most of it was wading through stones and dragon droppings, but somehow, the Company made it all the more fun.

Firstly, Bilbo put his foot down and demanded that the first construction project on the list was to get a greenhouse up and running somewhere in the mountain, because it was spring, and every hobbit knew that the best time to plant anything was spring. Thorin put up no complaint, and even though he tried to convince himself that it was because Bilbo’s decision was the most logical, he and everyone else knew that it was because he couldn’t deny Bilbo anything.

But even though Thorin had ordered most of the dwarves to get a greenhouse up and running so Bilbo could plant for the summer, Bombur and Bofur were set to cleaning out a kitchen for Bombur to use, Tauriel and Legolas were hunting for their meals and Kili and Dwalin were cleaning out a chamber that they could all use.

On top of all the cleaning he had to do before the mountain was habitable for at least one dwarf, he also had to set up peace treaties with both Bard and Thranduil, which was proving to be harder than cleaning out the mountain. Well, Thranduil was, at least. Bard was desperate to prevent another Battle of the Five Armies, which Thorin had heard about in sections from Bilbo, before Tauriel caved and told him everything she knew.

He had spent the next few days sulking and cleaning out another separate chamber on his own before Dwalin bashed his head in in something that was considered training, before he returned to the greenhouse project and apologised to everyone for being a stubborn idiot.

Legolas joined him for two of the days and wordlessly helped him move rocks and chisel away around broken beds and dressers. Even though Legolas wasn’t moping as such, there was some sort of kindred spirit in him that Thorin could sense, and he pitied the elf.

He couldn’t tell if Thranduil would ever welcome Legolas back into his halls, never mind Tauriel, and he could sense the elf’s worry and fear, even if he did not express it. And it was then that Thorin knew that he could never deny them a home here, because those two elves had sacrificed more for his people than Dain ever would, and it was for that reason that they had become part of the company.

Much to Thorin’s surprise, however, Legolas had bonded extremely well with Bifur, even though there was the language barrier between them. Maybe, if Legolas proved himself, he could learn iglishmêk and really properly communicate with Bifur.

But that was still just another maybe, and the answer to that would come in time, just like the clearing of this rubble, which was taking a lot longer than Thorin would have liked. But he could not demand more of these dwarves, because they had already followed him to the end of the earth and further. More and more often, he found himself just looking around at the family that surrounded him, and appreciated each and every one of them.

“What are you thinking?” Bilbo would say next.

“Just happy, I guess,” Thorin would reply and Bilbo would hum in contentment, grasp his hand and squeeze tightly, before letting go and moving on to somewhere else.

That would leave him confused for more than a few moments, as he contemplated what that meant. Yes, he may have almost admitted his feelings on the side of the mountain before Bilbo went in to face Smaug, but that did not mean that they had talked about it. Hell, Thorin didn’t even know what he meant when he said it, but he knew that it was the right thing to say.

Whenever Bilbo did something like that, Thorin just wanted to push him up against a wall and have his way with him. Then for a few moments he would day dream about that, usually grasping rocks absent-mindedly.

“Stop daydreaming princess. This rubble won’t clean itself,” Dwalin would say to shake him out of his stupor, and after that he would get on with his job, waiting not so patiently until he had a moment alone to rip his and Bilbo’s interaction into shreds and decipher what it all really meant.

And then that cycle would repeat over and over, until they had a town square, and a few shops, and two cafeterias and a heap of quarters that the first wave of dwarves could use to sleep in as they cleared out the next stage. Bilbo had grown wheat and apples and a whole load of other plants, and Thorin decided that Bilbo should train other dwarves to be able to grow plants in a whole load of other greenhouses that they would build.

And all of this happened in the first six months. They made amazing progress, most likely spurred on by the fact that the company was still together. He (very reluctantly) got a peace treaty signed by Thranduil, and Bard had already warned his people as well as the elves of the approaching army filled with Orcs, Wargs and Goblins.

Even though they were due to be here when Durin’s Day rolled around again, everyone was still on high alert. Azog and Bolg may be dead, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t another commander that had rallied the armies to war against the Dwarves of Erebor, desperate to claim the mountain.

But Thorin most definitely would not let them, because he had risked so much to get the mountain back, that it could not fall again to orcs and wargs and goblins.

But he continually pushed that thought out of his mind, and focused on the positives. Well, he tried to at least. There were so many reminders of negatives in this mountain, and everywhere he looked there was something else that showed him how much he had failed in this life and his previous. The gold sickness was everywhere, and he had done as much as he could to prevent himself from going anywhere near the treasury.

But he would have to eventually, even if he kept putting it off. He had gotten Nori to scope it out, but he avoided that room like the plague. It was the plague really, because somewhere inside that room was the Arkenstone, the source of all of his problems.

If he could live the rest of his life without ever laying eyes on that rock again, he would die a happy dwarf. But he knew that one day he would hold it in his hands again, if only to destroy it for once and for all.

Another few months passed, before a raven came three weeks before the dwarves from the Blue Mountains were scheduled to come. It was short and sweet and to the point, and just reeked of Dis.

_Thorin,_

_Give it a week and you won’t have any control over that mountain._

_If my boys are harmed in any way I expect your braids boxed up and presented to me nicely._

_Dis_

He didn’t expect anything less from his younger sister. He may be protective, but she took it to a whole other level. If either Fili or Kili had the slightest scratch on them when Dis saw them again, he would probably rather cut off his braids than face her wrath.

But they were unharmed, and he didn’t want to think about the ‘for now’ that could very easily be added to the end of that sentence, and so his braids were going to stay firmly attached to his face for the time being.

But she was still coming here, which meant so many other things. It would mean that he no longer was in control of the mountain, because he had no doubt in his mind that she would find a way to manipulate him into getting what she wanted. It also meant that she was going to meet Bilbo at some point, which would inevitably lead to her finding out about their complicated relationship status. She would find out that both of her boys had found their Ones, and one of those said One’s wasn’t even a dwarf.

And what he was dreading the most, was that she would find out about Thorin’s failings in another universe, and he didn’t know if he could live with that shame. He had given Bilbo a courting gift of mithril chainmail for Mahal’s sake, and then gone on to completely destroy all he had worked for over some stone that didn’t really matter all that much.

And he had gotten Kili and Fili killed, which was something that he didn’t know if his sister could forgive him for.

She was going to be so ashamed of him, he already knew that.

And that was just three weeks away, and with no proper courting gift to give Bilbo, there wasn’t much he could do to make his situation any better.

So instead, he just pulled a Thorin and decided that it would be a good idea to totally ignore his feelings until the last possible moment, much to the exasperation of the other dwarves.

“When do you think he’ll realise that Bilbo loves him too?” Dori whispered as him and Bofur stood watching Thorin, who was moping around and attempting to clear out another room, even though he was accomplishing nothing.

“When Dis comes and shakes him out of this. You know Durin’s. They can never realise anything about their love lives on their own,” Bofur said with a chuckle.

“Does that mean someone has to tell Dwalin that his little unrequited crush maybe isn’t so unrequited after all?”

“You know what? That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. Well, in theory at least. I would hate to have that conversation with Dwalin, but maybe you could do something about Nori?”

“I highly doubt Nori would realise what I am talking about to him even if I stated it right to his face. He can be one thick dwarf, for all of his street smarts.”

“Agreed.”

The two dwarves stood in silence for a while longer, until Thorin noticed them and ushered them out to perform another task in clearing out the mountain and making it habitable for use. They knew, just like every other dwarf in this mountain knew, that there was going to be two ways that Thorin would face his feelings.

  1.        Every single job in this mountain was completed, and Thorin had no other option than to focus on what was really important. (However, they all knew that between the company, they could never get this mountain cleaned out in time)
  2.        Dis came and shook them both out of it, making the pair of them confront their feelings head on. And yes, it would be the pair of them, because she would not be any lighter on Bilbo than she would be on Thorin, especially when the Company told her stories about how it was pretty obvious that the pair of them were waiting for the other one to make the first move, and were in pretty heavy denial about any feelings the other may or may not possess.



It was possible that between the Company, they could come up with some sort of plan to get them together, but it was highly unlikely that it would work. But what they could do was come up with a plan that would work once Lady Dis arrived, which was what the subject of conversation was for the next three weeks to come.

“We could just lock them in a closet?”

“No, Thorin still wouldn’t address his feelings. He’d just brush it off as a joke and still not talk to Bilbo?”

“Well maybe we could just ask Bilbo outright?”

“No, he’d just blow us off too, and go and do something around Thorin so that he could moon after him a bit more.”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk Nori!”

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Fine. But we still need to come up with a decent plan.”

“We could just leave it all to Dis?”

“No way!”

“Leave it all to who?”

“Dis, Oin. DIS.”

“Oh, the Lady Dis. She should be a part of our plan, but it would be a show of weakness to her if we don’t have a decent plan in place when she arrives at the Mountain.”

“Yeah, we need to have fun planning out how to get him and Thorin together!”

“How can you even consider that fun Kili? Uncle is so thick when it comes to love, just like you.”

“And you!”

“Boys…”

“Fine Dwalin. So we just wait for Mother then?”

“She’ll know what to do with Thorin.”

“What do you mean ‘do with Thorin’?”

They all turned around slowly and faced the entrance, which, in their excitement they had forgotten to guard, and looked on as Bilbo stood there, confusion written all over his face.

“Uh…” Kili stuttered out, making everything seem a lot more secretive than it was.

“Well, you’re not very good at this are you Kili,” Dwalin whispered in his ear, causing Kili to go bright red.

Luckily enough for the company though, was that Bofur could think under pressure a lot better than the rest of them could, and managed to steer Bilbo away with just a few well-placed words. “Bilbo! Just the person I was hoping to see. I wanted to talk to you about the fourth greenhouse, because Thorin has been asking about it, and I was scouting locations for it all day. Do you think we could take a walk around the mountain to see if we can find another suitable location?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Bilbo stuttered out awkwardly, allowing Bofur to take his arm and lead him in whatever direction he wanted to go in.

But he wasn’t convinced, because Thorin had specifically told him that he wasn’t worried about getting a fourth greenhouse up and running, because that would be a job when there were more reinforcements in the mountain. They would have enough food for the first year, especially if the trade with Laketown kept up like it was right now.

So why was Bofur telling him that Thorin had been speaking to him about a fourth greenhouse?

He trusted both Bofur and Thorin, but his gut was telling him that Bofur was the one lying, using the lie to cover up whatever he and the rest of the Company were talking about. He knew that it had something to do with Thorin, and doing something involving him, but he wasn’t sure what. It also had something to do with his sister, the Lady Dis, because that was what drew him into listening to their conversation.

But the worst part about trying to listen into a secret conversation with dwarves, was that there was a language barrier between them. The dwarves would switch back and forth between Khuzdul and Common Tongue, which meant that even though his efforts to listen into the conversation were there, there wasn’t going to be as much of a result as he wanted.

As Bilbo listened to Bofur drone on about greenhouses and gardens, he realised that none of them actually cared about greenhouses or gardens, and so he changed the topic to something else, something that Bofur was extremely grateful for. However, it also made Bofur very weary. If Bilbo knew that Thorin hadn’t really talked to him about the greenhouses, then they were halfway to being found out.

They were going to need to be much more secretive in the future, especially when talking about Thorin and Bilbo.

As the next week passed, albeit very slowly, Thorin was also becoming more aware of the fact that the dwarves were keeping something from him. He had spoken to Bilbo twice about it to see if he knew what was going on, but he just blew Thorin off, saying that it was about some secret project to do with the clearing of the mountain.

But his gut was telling him that Bilbo didn’t know either, but what he did know, was enough to keep it from Thorin. Enough, like a few overheard words scattered here and there, mixed with names, because none of the Company would be stupid enough to use his proper name here. Half of them didn’t know it, well, not yet anyway.

So he busied himself with his work clearing out the mountain, pondering over what was so important that he wasn’t allowed to know. He had figured out that it had something to do with Dis, because of one aborted hand gesture from Fili to Kili.

But out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black figure swoop across the sky which came in through one of the windows and dropped something in his lap.

_Thorin,_

_One more day._

And if it was one more day when she sent this letter that meant only one thing.

She had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @ belllxrke.tumblr.com
> 
> follow me on fanfiction @ clarkesgriffins


	19. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dis arrives in the mountain, and this ending is another beginning

She didn’t know what to expect from her childhood home as she stood, facing the looming gates, wondering how much would have changed and how much hadn’t. Thorin had been there for eleven months now, and here she was, just waiting for the right moment to step inside.

The doors weren’t open, because the dwarves inside were waiting for some sort of confirmation that it was really the dwarves from the Blue Mountains, who were coming down to repopulate the Mountain. But luckily enough for her, the rest of the dwarves in her caravan had given her a few moments alone at the front of the mountain, just enough time to make her feel like she could actually do this.

For all of the confident front she put up, Erebor was such an integral part of her, and here and now, she was about to come face to face with the life she thought she had left behind forever. Where her sons could be happy in a place that was filled with history and happiness.

The dwarves in the caravan had already sent a raven into the mountain to confirm to Thorin that it was really them, and now Dis had to stand out here and wait, so that she could be the first woman from the Blue Mountains who would step foot in the mountain.

And slowly, with a creaking that sounded as old as time itself, the two massive stone doors pushed into the open air, and light streamed both out and in.

Dis stared inside, at the childhood home she had lost, and how much it had changed. There was stones and rocks everywhere, probably from clearing out cave-ins and wreckages. It took her breath away though, to see exactly how much progress had been made over the months, and the attention to detail that surrounded her entirely.

There were the same carvings on the wall that she remembered, and they were still as intricate, but the dust that had settled over them just showed how long it had been since anyone had really looked at them, and had taken in the beauty and the history that they actually held.

In the dust, there were the markings of fingerprints and handprints and all of the things that symbolised that someone had lent against that wall or just stopped there and put their hands up against it for a moments rest. It was a symbol that the mountain was coming back into its own, all because of the valiant effort of the dwarves that laboured here day after day.

“MOTHER!”

Dis spun around to see Kili charging towards her. She swept him up in a hug, feeling relief spread over her body. She could see Fili standing at the door, waiting patiently for her to be done with Kili before he came over to her.

And this was the first moment she realised they had changed. The Fili before the quest would be fighting with his brother over who could say hello to her first, something that the two of them had done since they were born. But now, he knew how much saying hello to her first meant to them, and so he stood by patiently and waited for him to be finished.

The moment Kili let go, Fili came over and hugged her gently. “Welcome home mother,” he whispered in her ear.

She could feel her eyes well up, and she quickly blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over. Over Fili’s shoulder she could see Thorin and the group of dwarves that made up the company. Even though she had never met them before, she was still extremely grateful to all of them, because all of them played a role in keeping her sons alive.

Thorin came over and hugged her next, and she could feel that he was trying to convey so many years of emotions in this one hug. This time she did not hold back the tears.

“Welcome home little sister.”

And he was right. With all of these people around her, strangers and friends alike, she was home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is it! this is the last chapter of think about all the places we could go :)
> 
> *screams* I FINISHED SOMETHING!
> 
> do look out for the sequel, because I am writing that as my camp nanowrimo in july. i wrote most of this one back in april for that camp nano, and so I will do the sequel this nano. 
> 
> however, I will also write one shots, because I have been doing a lot of them this past month :)
> 
> also I have no wips right now and that is so freeing and amazing and im just so happy rn
> 
> follow me on tumblr @ belllxrke.tumblr.com
> 
> ily guys


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